Deus Ex: Revenant
by Furiyan
Summary: The year is 2027. It is a time of great innovation and technological advancement. It is also a time of chaos and conspiracy - but though the story of Adam Jensen is well known, there was another, forgotten by time - one of a woman who made a choice that would change, and define her life...to save her husband. Six parts, updated weekly. Cover photo from Deus Ex: Human Revolution.
1. Keres

**A/N: Few things before we begin: the storyline for this six-part series is set in the Deus Ex: Human Revolution universe, and as such contains references to that game as well as a couple of potential spoilers.**

 **The rights to Jack Frost, Pitch Black and E. Aster Bunnymund belong to Dreamworks and William Joyce. The rights to Elsa, Anna, Hans and Scar belong to Disney. The rights to Adam Jensen, Francis Pritchard, David Sarif and Eliza Cassan along with Deus Ex: Human Revolution specific terms, objects and concepts belong to Eidos Montreal. I own nothing but the plot.**

 **Some terms to note:**

" **Augs": short for Augments, a disparaging nickname.**

 **Biochip: Mechanical augmentations require a neuroprosthetic junction (biochip) so the artificial body part can communicate with the nervous system. If you want to punch someone in the face with your augmented arm, the biochip enables that.**

 **LIMB Clinic: This is a place where people can undergo augmentation procedures and where they can take Neuropozyne (more on that shortly), as well as other products.**

 **Neuropozyne: This is a drug that prevents** _**Darrow Deficiency Syndrome**_ **i.e. the build up of glial tissue around biochip(s) attached to the brain, which then leads to rejection of the augmentation.**

 **Purity First: An organisation that opposes augmentation in all its forms, often violently.**

* * *

" **Deus Ex: Revenant"**

 **Part 1 of 6**

 **.**

 **.**

 **\- - | ~ o O o ~ | - -**

 _" **Keres"**_

 **\- - | ~ o O o ~ | - -**

 **.**

 **.**

 _(February 5th, 2027)_

Elsa's foot pressed down on the accelerator pedal of her black sedan hard enough for the engine to whine and scream mechanical obscenities at her, while her heart thumped and thudded against her ribcage. As she blitzed by, the murky orange streetlights and white windows flew past like streaks of light, so fast that she barely noticed them in between swallowing a suffocating lump in her throat and wiping tears from her eyes. Dodging other cars that were being driven at a much more leisurely - law abiding - pace, she weaved her car to and fro between them at a speed that would surely get her arrested.

None of that mattered, though. Jackson was dying.

She received the call only fifteen minutes ago; as his only next of kin, Elsa had been called at work by the hospital's emergency department, informing her that her husband had been on his way home from his teaching job when he was caught in the crossfire between the well-augmented police and Purity First extremists, those who believed cybernetic augmentations were the work of the devil and the human body should not be tampered with. His injuries were extensive and life threatening, and she should be there for him.

The thing was - due to working in a LIMB clinic and having to deal with Neuropozyne prescriptions, organising augmentation operations and ensuring the procedures went smoothly, Elsa had easily read between the lines and understood what the nurse actually meant.

 _"Your husband's injuries are mortal, and he doesn't have long. You need to be quick if you want to say goodbye."_

Hence her dangerous speed through the mercifully calm Seventh Street to Our Lady of Arendelle Hospital - she was running out of time.

 **.**

 **\- - | ~ o O o ~ | - -**

 **.**

She nearly broke down as soon as she saw him in the intensive care ward. Cupping her mouth with her left hand as the tears fell freely and choking sobs escaped her lips, she came face to face just how damaged her husband was.

It was like a nightmare. The last time Elsa saw Jackson, he was giving her a goodbye kiss on the lips before hopping down the outside steps towards his car, his chocolate brown hair fluttering in the breeze. She had felt the burning feeling of love in her chest as she stared after him for those few seconds, happier than she could put into words, completely devoted to their love and marriage. He was her soul-mate, and she was his. Of course, she had been basking in the warmth for so long that she had become late for work, and inevitably had to rush out of the door too.

He looked a world away from the Jackson she kissed that very morning. Countless I.V. tubes protruded from his arms and hands. He had been intubated, so a plastic pipe had been shoved in his mouth and attached to a life-support system - even his lungs couldn't breathe for him. His skin was as pale as death, and he looked so...vulnerable. She felt her heart twist beneath her ribcage - how could this have happened? He didn't care about augmentations, nor Purity First's motives, just the children in his class. There was no rhyme or reason, no _justification_ for him to be in that situation - mortally wounded with machines keeping him alive.

She slowly moved to his bedside, her eyes immovable, her gaze unable to be torn away from his beautiful, charming, medically taped face. Chatty, now silent. Energetic, now still. She swallowed down her grief while the monitors beeped with melodic regularity in her ears, a sign that though he was alive, he was not _alive._ He was broken, he was falling, he was dying - and she choked on a sob when she realised there was _nothing_ she could do about it but be there when the life support was inevitably switched off.

"Jackson," she croaked. Reaching for his left hand, she squeezed it tighter than she ever thought possible - his skin was cold and clammy. Not like his usual cool temperature, but a sickly chill. "Jackson," she whispered again, her voice cracking on each syllable. The monitors continued to beep as she whispered his name one more time, fighting _so_ hard to not break down and let her tears fall onto his face as she leaned down to press a loving, gentle, tender kiss onto his forehead.

"Come back to me," she whispered against his skin. "Don't give up. I love you too much to watch you die - please, please come back."

She stroked his hair, feeling the tufts tickle between her fingers. He always loved it when she did that, just as he loved the French braid she always wore. Maybe it would encourage him to fight harder. "You're so handsome," she smiled in spite of her pain, grief and sorrow, "I always feel like the luckiest woman in the world when I wake up next to you, and I want to keep feeling like that. I want to keep waking up next to you - so please fight. I don't want to be alone…"

It was at the world ' _alone'_ that her voice cracked and the dam finally broke. Her lips pulled apart in a grimace, and her black skirt squeezed her thighs as she dropped to her knees, feeling the tears pour from her eyes onto his hand as she pressed her face to it.

It was inevitable, the pain in her heart told her. There was nothing more to be done, said the tightening sensation impairing every breath she took. Soon he was going to die, and she could only stand by and watch.

 **.**

 **\- - | ~ o O o ~ | - -**

 **.**

Hearing the circumstances of his mortal injuries like someone had reached in and ripped her heart, her life and her optimism.

Jackson had stopped at a florist on the way home, and had just stepped out of the door when a gang of Purity First followers opened fire with assault rifles on a small squad of police stood on the corner. In the wrong place at the wrong time, Jackson's body had been riddled with nearly two dozen bullets by the time the extremists had noticed, and it wasn't long before the police officers returned fire and killed them all. Jackson had been rushed to hospital within minutes, and emergency nurses fought to stem the bleeding and keep him alive...which they did - but the damage was too severe. Jackson's limbs had been too badly shredded by the hail of bullets, his organs were beginning to shut down one by one, and pretty soon he was going to give up.

The worst part was when the police officer that came by told her that he was holding a bunch of white lilies, purple crocuses and bluebells when he was shot. Elsa's favourite flowers. He had stopped at the florists for _her._

And that only intensified the pain, the fear of loss - she found herself wishing that he wasn't so thoughtful and kind. If he hadn't stopped, he would be cuddling her on the sofa and exchanging stories with her about their respective days. No, he had to be the man she loved and married, and paid for it with metal and violence and hate.

Sat at his bedside, it was when she was telling him about her day at the LIMB clinic, all about how Rapunzel had brought her birthday cake into work - chocolate, naturally - and handed a slice to each member of staff as well as the visitors, hoping that her voice could encourage him to come back that a smartly-suited stranger opened the door to Jackson's room. Hearing the door click, Elsa looked up from her husband with bloodshot, aching eyes to see someone she never expected to see in her lifetime. He was a recluse, someone who valued privacy higher than gold, who was never seen in public without several bodyguards, whose auburn hair and long sideburns spoke of humanity while his sleek, shiny black cybernetic right arm did not.

Hans Westergard, CEO of Westergard Industries, the premier augmentation and biotechnology company in Arendelle City. Nearly all of the augmented humans populating the city utilised limbs, chips or implants created by Westergard Industries, with the exceptions sporting the wares of Sarif Industries and Tai Yong Medical. If there was a cybernetic prosthesis being installed in the LIMB clinic where she worked, it was a safe bet that the limb sported the logo of his company.

"Mrs Overland," Hans softly spoke in a voice just above a whisper, full of gentleness and sympathy, "you probably know who I am."

"Yes," she croaked, and swallowed through her astoundingly dry mouth before continuing, "I do."

Hans smiled, but it was a heartfelt, pained smile of useless comfort. "Please allow me to express my deepest sympathies and condolences for you, and your husband's situation. It is unthinkable for such a thing to happen, especially to someone who does not deserve this."

Elsa, whether consciously or not, studied his face before she spoke. His green eyes radiated compassion. Stood near the door, he crossed his left hand over his mechanical right, and regarded her with respect. "Thank you," she eventually found the strength to whisper.

"I understand the prognosis is not good," he said, less of a question, more of a statement of fact. Elsa knew he would have asked the nurses before entering their room, so he knew as much as she did about Jackson's injuries and chance of survival. Her gaze dropped, and slowly travelled across to rest upon her inert husband, unable to find the words to reply. To do so would be tantamount to accepting defeat and death, and if she learned anything from her marriage, it was that there was always hope.

"Why are you here?" she asked. Far blunter than she would normally have been in the clinic, but she wasn't _in_ the clinic. She could be forgiven for her lack of tact.

I may…" he began, and it was his hesitation that caused Elsa to look up toward him once more, curious as to why the usually so confident Hans Westergard was having difficulty. His mouth opened and closed, so many times that Elsa almost snapped at him to get to the point, when he finally did.

"I may have a way to save your husband's life."

 **.**

 **\- - | ~ o O o ~ | - -**

 **.**

Elsa paced the well lit, translucent white-panelled waiting room of Westergard Industries' operating theatre. Her hands wrung each other with great anxiety while her lower lip remained entrenched between her teeth, and the only sound that graced her ears was the _click-clack_ of her heels on the plastic. Jackson had been in there for nearly eight hours, eight agonisingly long hours with only tacky celebrity magazines, digital advertisements, two a.m. television and her own thudding heartbeat for company. Anna, bless her heart, was determined to stay with her for support and comfort, but when she ended up dozing off on one of the white leather sofas, Elsa had called Kristoff to come and pick her up. Naturally Anna didn't want to leave, but after some stern convincing from both her husband and her sister, she gave in under the proviso that Elsa was to call with any news, no matter what.

Whether or not Jackson would make it, that is.

Hans' offer was simple; in Detroit, Sarif Industries had recently celebrated the successful augmentation of their head of security Adam Jensen. Like Jackson, Jensen's injuries were mortal, so the sheer amount of augmentations needed to save his life was staggering. Indeed, Adam Jensen possessed the most augmentations of any known human being on the planet. Hans proposed much the same; he believed that Jackson's life could be saved through the same procedure, though it was likely that he would require a similar amount of augmentations in order for it to work.

"I am obliged to point out," he had cautioned, "that he may not look like the Jackson Overland you know. Visible augments...tend to have negative aesthetic effects for loved ones."

It was an offer that was too good to be true. There Jackson was, at Death's door, when Hans Westergard offered to save his life.

"Will he still be the same person underneath?" she had whispered while gazing lovingly at her husband's pale features. "Will he be the same man I fell in love with all those years ago?"

Hans' smile had been both comforting and expectant. "He will, Mrs Overland. What Purity First don't seem to grasp is that augmentations do not change who a person is inside. They simply become _better._ Your husband will be man the you married…"

He had hesitated once more, before continuing, "...but he may look vastly different. Can you accept that chance, Mrs Overland? Can you see past his surface, to the person within?"

It was clear what he had meant: Jackson's limbs would no longer be organic, but metal. Many of his organs would likely have implants incorporated into them - like the Clear-Air Oxygenation System she designed many years ago to help a person's lungs take in and better utilise oxygen - and his appearance could be drastically different. Even his eyes might no longer be a boyish shade of chocolate brown, but something _else._

As she ceased her pacing and agitatedly fiddled with her braid with one hand, whilst clutching the lapels of her white LIMB clinic jacket together with the other, she remembered the determination she felt as she gazed longingly at her husband. She had tried to picture mechanical hands, feet, ocular implants, Westergard Industries logos on each cybernetic implant or prosthesis - and it didn't change a damn thing.

"I met him in college," she remembered speaking softly, her elegant cadence speaking of nostalgia and love, "in the middle of my freshman year. It...wasn't the whirlwind romance you read about, the ones where the lady is swept off her feet. No, I found him to be overly mischievous and annoying. He didn't seem to treat his education with the respect it deserved, and I never thought I could be attracted to him, let alone fall in love with him."

Hans seemed to humour her. "What changed?" he asked.

What followed had come from her heart, her soft words flowing so easily from her mouth it was like she was being led. "I saw under the mask, saw him for who he truly was. Someone who only acted like a clown to make his friends laugh. Who made damn sure that they smiled at least once a day. Someone who loved his friends and his family deeply, and would do anything for them. Someone who was loyal to a fault, who cared too much, who was kind, generous, playful and funny...and I remember one day, wondering if I could count myself among the people he loved. As it turned out, he had a huge crush on me too, which is why he was always goofing around in my presence...so when he asked me out on a date, I gladly accepted. The rest, as they say, is history."

She remembered making the decision, how it seemed to come so easily. How her heart told her that underneath it all, Jackson would still be there, just like in college. "Jackson is my soulmate, Mr Westergard. I have loved and I will love no other man like I love him, and I don't care what he will look like on the outside. Without him, my life would feel empty and cold...so please, Mr Westergard. Please."

Whether it had been for emphasis, or just to convey to him how much she loved her husband and wanted him to live, that she would do anything, she didn't know...but her gaze slowly traced over to his to speak the words that would change her life forever.

"Save my husband, Mr Westergard. Bring him back to me."

Eight hours of waiting, and Elsa's patience and agitation was at breaking point. She had read - or at least attempted to, it wasn't exactly like her attention could be focused on any one thing - every magazine in the room. She barely paid attention to the two a.m. television, and she was going to go mad if she didn't get any news. Her heart thudded against her rib cage like a vicious war drum, and she tried not to think about what they could be doing to him, only that her husband could be coming back to her. Yes, he would be different. Yes, he would have to work through some issues, come to terms with who he would become, but she would be there for him. To make sure he knew that what she did, she did out of _love._ Stood at a knife edge between his tenor, smooth and seductive voice, and crushing silence, she prayed that she could see him smile again. Hear him laugh. Hear him say " _I love you, Elsa"_ and fill her heart with warmth.

She practically jumped out of her skin when a series of knocks echoed from the frosted glass door, and whirled around just as a man entered the room, wearing light green medical scrubs and a hair cap. "Mrs Overland?" he asked softly, his expression blank and emotionless.

"Yes...yes, that's me." she answered quickly and a little impatiently, "how..h-how is…"

"My name is Dr. Tadashi Hamada, I am the lead augmentation surgeon in Westergard Industries." He paused for a short time, which Elsa spent scanning his remarkably good poker face for any signs, body language that would give her the answer she craved.

But it was his eyes that told the story. His hazel brown eyes, one shade lighter than Jackson's, that gave her the answer before he even spoke. There was only one reason her heart was beginning to break, as well as the tears that fell from her eyes.

Of course, he had to speak the heartrending words anyway...it was his job. "I am sorry, Mrs Overland," he said with a voice of regret, "but your husband passed away during the operation. There was nothing we could do...his...his injuries were too severe. I am deeply sorry, Mrs Overland."

He left the room shortly after, and Elsa couldn't blame him. She wanted to be alone with her pain, with her grief, the sounds of strangled sobs and weeps her only company in the paradoxically bright room. She collapsed against the sofa and buried her head in her hands, unwilling to believe that she was never going to see her husband again, that in one day she had turned from a happily married woman into a widow.

That not even the advanced science of mechanical augmentation could save his life, and she would be lying next to an empty space in their bed that night.

 **.**

 **\- - | ~ o O o ~ | - -**

 **.**

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **Aaaand that's a wrap for the first chapter. I was supposed to have done, edited and proofread every single chapter before I uploaded, but as it has impacted upon OGaV's next chapter _"A Ballad of Ice and Fire"_ as well as NH, I thought I'd upload precisely _what_ I've been working on, and give you all at least _something_ for being so patient.**

 **Deus Ex: Human Revolution is a fantastic game (yes, plugging here), with a rich story, decent gameplay and a lot of thought-provoking choices. If you haven't already played it, I suggest you do so. If you don't have access, check out the game trailer on Youtube - but you don't have to have played the game to understand this.**

 **For those that have - this fic is set during the six months between the attack on Sarif Industries at the beginning of the game, to Adam Jensen's return to duty post augmentation. I am hoping to sort of weave the two stories, or at least connect them in a small way.**

 **I will be thanking people (you know who you are) but at the end of the fic.**

 **Thank you all!**


	2. Prometheus

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" **Deus Ex: Revenant"**

 **Part 2 of 5**

 **.**

 **.**

 **\- - | ~ o O o ~ | - -**

 ** _"Prometheus"_**

 **\- - | ~ o O o ~ | - -**

 **.**

 **.**

 _(June 13th, 2027)_

Four months since the death of her husband.

People grieve in different ways, and though Elsa was slowly accepting his passing, it still left an emptiness in her heart that couldn't be filled. She hated coming home after a shift in the LIMB clinic to a house void of laughter, warmth and fun. She _hated_ not being greeted with a glass of wine, and a cheeky smile - Jackson always finished work before she did, and it was tradition for him to welcome her home with a glass of wine or a hot chocolate. If her day was particularly bad, then she was presented with a slice of decadently delicious chocolate cake.

Since the fifth of February, no such tradition. Many times had she opened the front door and habitually called out, " _I'm home!"_ into the house, only for silence and darkness to greet her and remind her. It jabbed at her heart every day.

The funeral two weeks later was the worst part, if it could get any worse, that is. When she had approached Westergard Industries with the intent of claiming his body for burial, she was cruelly directed to a clause in the procedure consent form, which in her haste and grief she had missed when signing it, whereby the claim to Jackson's body would be waived in the event of his death.

She was heartbroken to learn of her oversight, feeling like she had betrayed her husband by essentially signing him away...and the funeral was subsequently conducted with an empty casket.

However, she was not without support. Her friends at the clinic expressed their deepest condolences, and endeavoured to help her accept his passing and begin to move on, and Anna's support was invaluable outside of work. She would drop by every day for an hour or two, sometimes just to chat, sometimes to provide a shoulder to cry on. Elsa knew that her recovery would not have been possible without her friends and family, and over time she learned to cope with his absence - though Jackson would always be with her, as would the heartache accompanying his memory…

"Um...Doc Overland?"

...though there were many occasions where her mind would drift away.

The young man's voice snapped her from her reverie. Blinking, she blankly stared at him for a few seconds while reality came back to her along with her senses. The air was clean - clinically so - and the room around her was brightly lit with a recovery bed situated in the middle. Scanners attached to steel grey robotic arms moved up and down the man's hospital gown-covered body as he sat on the edge of the bed, shining a thin blue light across every inch of him - specifically, the pair of black cybernetic legs attached to his hips - and transmitting the data to the tablet in her left hand. Then she remembered - this young man had been pinned to a wall by a car, and both of his legs had been crushed irreparably. Luckily the hospital was nearby and the bleeding had been stopped through the medical technicians' tireless efforts, and then he had been referred to the LIMB clinic to undergo a procedure which would provide him with a pair of prostheses, enabling him to walk and still have a good quality of life. Fairly handsome boy, with shaggy brunette hair, green eyes, and a bald patch on the left side of his head sporting a long line of sutures as a result of the biochip implantation.

"Yes?" she murmured blankly.

"You were about to tell me about my results," he prompted her.

"Oh!" she blurted, blushing awkwardly, "You're right, I'm sorry. I was miles away." She cleared her throat and averted her eyes to the data scrolling across her tablet. Numbers pertaining to his body temperature, oxygen levels, blood pressure and heart rate danced to and fro across the screen. Pleased with the results, she uttered a _hm,_ and pressed an icon that ceased the scan, thus returning the robotic arms to their docks in the ceiling _._ "Your readings look good, Mr Haddock; all within nominal levels. Dr. Astrid Hofferson will be here shortly to test your motor functions and talk to you, but for now it looks like the augmentation was a complete success. Congratulations." she finished with a warm smile.

The young man's eyes grew wide with joy, and a relieved grin carved its way across his face from ear to ear. "I...I can walk? I can g-go home?" he stammered adorably. Chuckling, Elsa held up a hand.

"Not so fast, Mr Haddock. As I said, Dr. Hofferson will need to test the connection between the biochip electrodes and your primary motor cortex, and talk to you about adapting to your new legs. In addition, within the next six months you will have to take weekly Neuropozyne doses, otherwise scar tissue will build up around the biochip in your brain and impede the electrical signals, rendering your legs unusable. Unfortunately, you will have to do this for the rest of your life."

Mandates handed down from Life in Mind and Body International prevented her from adding that there was a Neuropozyne shortage, however.

Mr Haddock, on the other hand, looked over the moon. "Doc, I'll be able to walk again. I don't care if I have to take Neuro-whatsit every week or every day, I can walk again." he said, gesturing wildly in glee and relief.

It was reactions like Mr Haddock's that made her day worthwhile - and made her wonder why factions like Purity First were so against augmentations. If they didn't exist, the young man in the clinic would never be able to walk again.

"I'm pleased to hear it," she smiled. Curiously, his mouth immediately opened and closed like a goldfish - sometimes patients had questions that only came to mind _after_ the fact. One person even asked if he would need to take his arm out every night to charge its batteries. "Is there something you want to ask, Mr Haddock?" she prompted him, noticing the light blush on his cheeks.

He blinked in surprise, before a bashful smile took the place of the gleeful grin. "Oh," he said awkwardly, "yeah. Um, my name's Hiccup - don't ask. I was wondering, I mean...when I can walk again, and...if you wanted to..I was wondering, um, you know...if...I could have your number, and...maybe ask you out on a date?"

Elsa blushed lightly, and looked away - she had received quite a few of these offers over the past four months. Jackson always said she had the beauty and intelligence of a goddess. "That's a very nice offer, Mr. Haddock, and I'm flattered. However," she held up her left hand, prominently showing off the silver wedding ring, "I'm married."

It was a cheap get-out excuse, but some men and women tended to be persistent. It was partly why she still wore her wedding ring - both as a preventative measure, and as a connection to her late husband. Hiccup's cheeks went a vivid crimson from embarrassment, and he quickly averted his eyes. "Oh! I-I'm sorry. I didn't know...God, I feel like an idiot."

Elsa chuckled, but felt a distinct urge to leave the room. "That's okay, Mr. Haddock. You weren't to know. Unfortunately I have other matters requiring my attention, so please wait here for Dr. Hofferson."

Without waiting for a response, Elsa nodded respectfully before turning around to slide the data tablet into a rack by the frosted glass door, pulling open the door and leaving the room.

"You know," came a playful, girly voice from behind her as she turned toward the clinic's waiting room, "I would have said yes. He's cute."

Elsa sighed, and her eyes completed an exasperated roll. "Yes, but I'm not you, Rapunzel." she snarked over her left shoulder. Rapunzel groaned, pushing herself from her position of leaning against the wall, her brunette bob swaying with the movement.

"Come _ooon,"_ she whined, "you should totally get back in the game! You're gorgeous, smart, sophisticated…" she paused for a beat, just as Elsa started walking, " _experienced_...men would be throwing themselves on the floor so you didn't get your shoes dirty."

Elsa scoffed, just as her colleague caught up. "One: I'm not ready. Two: it has only been four months. Three: you know how much I despise being put on a pedestal above others, so you have already shot down your argument."

Sulking, Rapunzel pouted as she nudged Elsa with her elbow. "You're no fun. But seriously, you need to get back in the dating scene. Jackson would-"

Elsa froze in step and held out a hand, cutting Rapunzel mid-sentence. "You are my friend and my colleague, so I'm asking you: please, stop. It was cute and flattering the first six times, but now it's getting annoying and _just_ a little insensitive." She was still not over Jackson's passing, and it was unlikely she would ever be.

"But-" Rapunzel blurted.

" _No."_ Elsa insisted, burning her stern eyes into Rapunzel's greens. She opened her mouth much like Hiccup did minutes ago, but eventually gave in.

"Fine," she groaned, rolling her eyes, "you be a widow. I just think-"

She was interrupted again, but not by a terse Elsa. The sound of the clinic's main doors banging open echoed through into the corridor where they were stood, followed by strange voices yelling muffled words. Angry, commanding words. Rapunzel froze, worriedly staring at the sliding door connecting the clinic's waiting room to the corridor they were stood in.

Then they heard the gunshots.

Both women started in shock, as soon as the first _crack_ resonated through the corridor, with Rapunzel gripping Elsa's arm so tightly that she could feel nails digging through the LIMB clinic coat. "It's them," Elsa breathed, "It's Purity First."

Another gunshot rang out, startling them once more, and kicking Elsa's mind into action. "Come on," she hissed, grabbing Rapunzel's arm with the other, "follow me!"

Dragging her friend, Elsa ran back the way she came, pushing open the frosted glass doors into the recovery room where Hiccup was in the process of attempting to stand, his face one of surprise and worry. "What's going on?" he asked, "I heard some loud bangs, is everyone okay?!"

Elsa carefully closed the door behind her. "The clinic is under attack by extremists; we need to get you out of here." she whispered as she strode over to him. There was no way in hell he would be able to walk unaided so soon after an operation, so gravity would definitely be a cruel mistress to him.

"Extremists? What...you mean-" he began, but Elsa was in no mood for conversation - her heart was racing way too fast, and adrenaline was pumping through her veins.

"Rapunzel, take his left arm," she quietly commanded, ducking under Hiccup's right and resting it over her shoulders. "We'll use the south fire exit, hopefully they haven't found it yet."

Both women let out grunts of effort as they lifted Hiccup from the bed - his legs were heavier than normal, and he hadn't exactly used them yet - and after a moment of adjusting her position for speed and stability, she wrapped her left arm around his back just above Rapunzel's, gripped his hand with the other, and proceeded to set off toward the corridor.

However flash of fear gripped her chest when a black shape appeared at the glass door. She gasped in fright when it burst open, revealing a man in dark brown loose pants, white shirt and green military jacket, with short auburn hair and blue eyes shining with zeal and an undoubtedly loaded AK-47 in his hands. "Hey!" he yelled at them, raising his rifle, "Where d'ya think you're goin'?"

Rapunzel was the first to speak, Hiccup having been struck dumb with shock and Elsa choosing to remain silent. Stepping forward, she implored, "This man needs help, please just let us-"

Her words were cut off with a pained shriek; like a cobra's lunge, the man thrust the butt of his rifle into her cheek with such force that she was knocked backwards, taking both Hiccup and Elsa with her to crash painfully on the floor. Yelping in shock, Elsa nearly collided with a nearby drawer unit on the way down.

"Filthy aug," the man spat, eyeing Hiccup, "and dirty aug-lovers," he carried on, glancing between a whimpering Rapunzel as she clutched her cheek and Elsa, who wore a mask of cold fury, "you don't deserve nothin'"

Shouldering the rifle, he pointed it squarely at Hiccup's head, growling, "Get up. You're gonna join your friends in the waiting room - do anything I don't like, and you ladies get to wipe this aug's brains from the wall."

 **.**

 **\- - | ~ o O o ~ | - -**

 **.**

"Elsa, I'm _fine,"_ Rapunzel groaned - but Elsa wasn't having any of that.

"I'll be the judge of that," she gently scolded the brunette, holding her left eye open as she shone a penlight into and then away from it, "you took a nasty hit from that disgusting excuse of a man." she continued while repeating the process with her right.

"I was hit in the cheek," Rapunzel protested, then groaned as Elsa ordered her to follow the light up to the ceiling, "not in the head. Worst I'm going to get is a bruise."

Elsa ordered her to look down, and then to the left before countering, "A bruise and a split lip, Rapunzel. Not to mention a possible concussion - so stop being a bad patient and do what I say."

"Yes, _mom."_ she sighed with sarcasm, and submitted to Elsa's overwhelming desire to ensure her safety.

She made Rapunzel look to the right, and satisfied that her pupils' reactions and ability to register simple directional instructions were unharmed, Elsa pocketed the penlight and placed two fingers on her wrist - which then gave her time to assess the situation.

Three guards, two male and one female, stood in the waiting room, all armed with assault rifles, dressed in similarly dirty clothes and decidedly in need of a good bath. They watched with hawk-like vigilance over the staff members and patients, while the rest of their group maintained positions in the main reception foyer patrolling to and fro. She could still hear the staccato gunshots echoing from the corridor even though they had ceased twenty minutes ago, ostensibly from some of the Purity First members that decided to shoot up the operating theatre, robotic arms and computers. They did the same with the reception, after all.

The civilians, on the other hand, were terrified. Augs had been shifted to one side of the room while the non-augmented, including Elsa and Rapunzel, were forced to the right. Every so often, Elsa would catch the eye of Hiccup as Astrid tended to him, and felt a faint glimmer of warmth when she caught the adoring glances he gave to her fellow colleague...in between the expression of tense fear, however. As if they hadn't been segregated enough, the augmented had been forced to sit on the floor while everyone else utilised the sofas and chairs. Fearful murmurs filled the room, mingling with the muffled conversation of the Purity First members in the foyer, and over a dozen pairs of eyes nervously glanced between each other and the assault rifles toted by the guards.

Elsa found it strange how she was so calm and at peace - Jackson always said she was cool under pressure.

"Hey...erm...I think you've got my pulse rate, and you have done for about a minute…" Rapunzel quietly reminded. Elsa blinked, and blushed as she quickly withdrew her hand.

"Sorry," she muttered awkwardly.

Rapunzel shrugged. "It's okay, don't worry…" she trailed off, eyeing the tallest man in the foyer - a slender man with swept back black hair, a hawk-like face and sporting what looked like a rather mean assault rifle talking to a shorter woman with curly black hair. Whatever the conversation was about, they were enjoying it - the woman looked like she was going to jump the man's bones. "Do we know what they want?"

Elsa shook her head, carefully glancing between the female guard and the door leading to the operating theatres. "I don't know. Whatever they want, it's not good, and worth taking hostages for."

The twin brother of the man that assaulted Rapunzel, who happened to sport a rather silly eyepatch, yelled at them to be quiet. Of course, it fell on deaf ears.

"I don't get it, though," Rapunzel frowned as she whispered, "I mean - do they actually think they'll get out of this alive? Police have got to be surrounding the clinic by now. Probably at least two Boxguard robots outside."

Elsa was completely on Rapunzel's wavelength; LIMB Clinics were often targets of drive-by shootings and bomb threats, so any incident involving them often involved a quick, precise and heavy police reaction. In fact - considering it was a hostage situation, she was surprised that SWAT hadn't invaded yet...so what were they waiting for?

Movement from the foyer caught Elsa's eye; the taller man had turned to face a shorter, brunette comrade. Standing straight, bolt upright and proud, he stared straight into a television camera on the brunette's shoulder. "You're going to want to watch this," grunted Eye-Patch as he swept past to press the on switch to the wall-mounted television.

Instantly, the left side of the screen was filled with the immaculately beautiful Eliza Cassan, news reader and face of Picus TV. She sported the same razor-sharp dark brown bob she always did, replete with bun on the top of her head, a strange concertina-like collar on her shoulders, and to her right was an image of a LIMB clinic. Below the images, a news ticker scrolled from right to left, sporting headlines such as " _SARIF INDUSTRIES RECOVER FROM MERCENARY ATTACK, DAVID SARIF RESOLUTE"_ and " _WILLIAM TAGGART TO SPEAK AT ANTI-AUGMENTATION GATHERING IN DETROIT"._

It took Elsa but a second to recognise the trees outside the clinic's door in the image. "Hey," Rapunzel breathed, "that's our building…how the hell did she know about what's happening so fast?"

Elsa could only shrug in confusion - a state that only deepened when Eye-Patch hammered the volume icon on the television's frame, bringing Cassan's ethereal, smooth and mysterious voice to everyone's ears.

" _Breaking news from Arendelle City, where a hostage situation is unfolding at the main LIMB clinic in the northeastern district. Police are not saying much or giving any details, but sources tell me that members of the violent and radical militant anti-augmentation group Purity First have taken over the clinic. Their demands have yet to be...wait...I am receiving an update…"_

" _Apparently, the leader of the hostage takers has contacted us at Picus TV to broadcast his message. Live from the LIMB clinic…"_

So that was the reason for the recording camera - the tall man wanted to speak to the city. Maybe now Elsa could get some answers.

" _My name is Pitch Black, and my real name is not important. What_ is _important is what Purity First stands for, and the message I have for Arendelle City and the world. Augmentations are a crime; they are tools of control by corporations to keep the population in check and enslaved to Neuropozyne. The human body is a temple. Flawed, but beautiful, and science should_ never _have been allowed to experiment with it. Humans are not meant to be tampered with."_

Elsa's eyes flicked from the television to Pitch Black, who gestured calmly and coolly at the LIMB clinic's medical cross logo behind him.

" _Our demands are simple - VersaLife will cease production of Neuropozyne, and the delivery of it to Arendelle City will also be ceased. In addition, companies like Sarif Industries and Westergard Industries will submit themselves to the government to answer for crimes against humanity in two days' time. My comrades and I are prepared to last, so we are not going anywhere - and be warned: if even one of our demands have not been met, the hostages_ will _die, one per day. I also don't need to say that any attempt to rescue the hostages will be met with deadly force. My resolve is ironclad, and my strength unwavering. Test me, and you will fail."_

"So, the same old rhetoric," Elsa whispered, "they must know that the police won't negotiate."

"Nope," Rapunzel agreed, "and there's no way Sarif or Westergard will play ball. These guys...they didn't exactly think this through."

Elsa thought about it. Maybe they did - if the supply of Neuropozyne from their clinic was disrupted for even one week, then several augmentations could be at risk. In a way, Pitch Black and Purity First were treating augmentations as an addiction, and they were staging an intervention by making the city go cold turkey.

A clicking from Elsa's left attracted her attention, and she noticed the eye-patch-less brother lean against the wall a few feet away to Rapunzel's left, his hands covering his mouth while an amber glow softly illuminated his face.

"Excuse me," Elsa spoke calmly, "but you can't do that here. Smoking is dangerous for your health."

Apparently there was some sort of cosmic timing involved in Elsa's words - just as the man opened his mouth to sneer a retort, the concrete wall near his head exploded, spraying him and the woman nearby with chunks of stone and dust. For a second, the terrorist looked bewildered, before something invisible - Elsa could only see a strange rippling effect warping the space around his chin - gripped his head and sharply twisted it, snapping his neck. The man slid down the wall having gained a new perspective on life, and crumpled to the floor with an ungraceful thud. Rapunzel shrank away, huddling closer to Elsa and eyed the lifeless corpse with worry.

"What the-" Rapunzel gasped.

His female companion shrieked in terror and sprayed the newly created hole with bullets, the sound forcing Rapunzel, Elsa and most of the room to cover their ears while Eye-Patch ran to her side. The crackling of gunfire was almost deafening, but Elsa was intent on keeping her eyes open. Something told her she didn't want to miss this - and judging by how the dozen members still stood in the foyer had suddenly aimed their rifles like a glorified firing squad, neither did they.

The deadly song of the AK-47 ceased its melody, leaving only the denying _click_ of an empty magazine. The only sound Elsa could hear as she slowly removed her hands, was the sound of her own breathing, mingling with the terrified gasps of the two guards and the whimpers of the unarmed civilians. For a time, only her heart's beat provided a metronomic pace.

Then the ripple re-appeared. Warping the area of the medical corridor door, the shape shot out of the hole and covered the distance between it and the two guards in a single second. The woman uttered a gurgled gasp as something penetrated her chest with such force that she was lifted off the ground, and her jacket peaked like a tent as whatever it was protruded from her back. Eye-Patch made a sound of sheer terror before diving to the door and opening it to yell " _He's here! Frost is here!"_ before he too was eliminated with something piercing his back, dead before he _and_ his comrade hit the ground.

Elsa managed to scream "Get down!" and drop to the floor before the rest of Purity First, shattered the glass separating them from the foyer with a deadly hail of bullets, punching brand new holes into the concrete wall behind them. Roars and yells of rage mingled with the staccato miniature explosions, but as she chanced a glance and saw the invisible rippling shape as it moved behind the furthest terrorist, she knew they were done for.

Whoever Frost was, he must have been military-trained with some sort of cloaking system. Augmented...of course. Only an aug could punch through a wall.

The first one to die was yanked into the air, pierced through the chest and tossed aside like a ragdoll. The second found his trigger hand was working independently of his mind, as his gun pointed itself at two other members and sprayed them with bullets, before he too was dispatched by a vicious slam to the ground. Members Five, Six and Seven were immediately eliminated by an object piercing their skulls, with Seven suffering a spontaneously opening gash to his throat. Eight and Nine were killed one after the other; Eight being penetrated by something through his chest _and_ his spine, and Nine being tossed at the glass wall of the reception desk, the resultant shards tearing into his body. Ten was lifted into the air and stabbed at the apex of his involuntary flight, hard enough that he was slammed down into the ground.

Which left only Pitch Black and the curly black-haired woman.

Elsa watched as, back to back, their eyes scanned every inch of the foyer and waiting room, looking for any sign of the assailant that managed to wipe out nearly every member of their group in less than two minutes. Looking for any sign of the ripple effect that heralded their deaths, she wondered if they were feeling lucky - augments with the cloaking system were not seen unless they wanted to be, or if you knew what you were looking for.

And then the area around the woman rippled for a brief second, before she was pierced with a small object in her neck, silent enough that Pitch Black did not even hear it happen. The woman plucked the object from her skin and stared at it in blank confusion, before her eyes rolled into the back of her head and her body crumpled to the ground like bodiless clothes.

Pitch Black heard _that_ , and the unintelligible strangled yell of shock that escaped his mouth chilled even Elsa to the bone - he must have really loved that woman. Yet, the expression of fear and horror on his face quickly changed to rage, and his head snapped round to the occupants of the waiting room. Elsa's heart shot into her mouth when she realised that he was most likely coming to execute all of them - if he went down, so did they. Pitch Black jumped over the shattered remains of the dividing glass wall, and in a moment that stilled her breath with fear, his eyes locked upon hers, and she knew he was going to kill her first. Raising the rifle, Pitch Black's lips pulled back to reveal an enraged grimace, and as he took aim…

...his body went rigid, convulsing sharply as though electricity was coursing through his body, and for a brief second Elsa felt a flash of wonder as to precisely why his finger had not squeezed the trigger yet. Her wide eyes flicked down to his right wrist as it shuddered and jerked - she could see _ice_ building up over his fingers and the handle of the rifle. Not only there, but on his _face_ too. Spreading from his forehead, it travelled through his eyes and down to his lips, turning his pallid complexion into a frosty white. Agonisingly, almost humiliatingly, 'Frost' kept him like that for at least fifteen seconds before letting him drop to the ground, head and wrist completely frozen, lifeless eyes falling directly into her line of sight.

As far as nightmare-inducing images go, that one was pretty high on the list.

Silence reigned in the waiting room. It was a tense, uncomfortable, nerve-wracking silence that carried with it acute bewilderment - in less than five minutes, something had broken in and eliminated fifteen armed terrorists without breaking a sweat...oh, and it _punched through a wall_. Elsa didn't dare move, partly for fear of any other Purity members that may still be alive, and partly for fear of whatever...or _who_ ever 'Frost' was. With her cheek pressed against the floor, and concrete dust tossed into the air with every cough it caused, her eyes scanned every single inch within her vision for the slightest movement, the smallest ripple.

Sure enough, one appeared among the massacre in the foyer, stood directly in the middle. It stood still long enough for Elsa to pick out the indistinct silhouette of a person, and the silence meant she could hear the sound of mumbling. "All civilians accounted for," she heard a male tenor-voice murmur, "no injuries that I can see. One incapacitated, as ordered."

Elsa chose that moment to push herself off the floor; whoever was speaking had obviously come to save them, so she must have nothing to fear from him. Clambering to her knees and wincing with the effort, it was when she straightened up and offered a helping hand to Rapunzel that the rippling ceased - a glimmering white light sparked at the person's feet, and quickly travelled the length of their body to wipe away the invisibility and leave behind a solid, tangible, visible person. Stood with his back to her, he wore a three-quarter length light grey trench coat with a blue hood covering his head, and a silver-grey augmented hand protruding from his right sleeve.

"Is it over?" Rapunzel squeaked once Elsa helped her to her feet. Her eyes remaining fixed on the man as his hooded head moved to and fro between each body, Elsa slowly nodded her answer.

"Rapunzel?" Elsa asked quietly, "would you kindly check on our visitors and patients?"

"Sure, but...what're you going to do?" Rapunzel asked in half-curiosity, half-bemusement as her gaze danced between Elsa and the new arrival.

Elsa didn't know what it was, or why, but something about this man danced at the cusp of familiarity, like a shadow in a memory. Something about his voice stirred a compartmentalised recollection and she found herself intrigued by this man's identity, feeling the overwhelming urge to sate her curiosity. "I am going to personally thank this person for saving our lives." she declared.

Rapunzel murmured her acknowledgement and calmly made her way to some of the more terrified patients, leaving Elsa to carefully step over the body of Pitch Black and walk towards the man whilst navigating the shattered glass strewn all over the floor. As she stepped over the once-glass frame, 'Frost' pulled back his hood as he knelt down to check the pulse of the black-haired woman with one metallic hand, revealing a head of messy snow-white hair. Messy...like…

"Excuse me?" Elsa called out to him. The man ignored her, and busied himself with assessing the woman's eyes. "Um, sir? Hello?"

The man stood, still with his back to her. "I just…" she began, a little hesitantly as a result of his lack of reaction, "I just wanted to thank you for…"

It was when he finally turned to face her that she realised precisely why this man seemed so familiar.

"Ma'am?"

Her heart stopped, and her breath stilled in her chest. Her mouth instantly dried thanks to her open-mouthed incredulity, and her mind completely shut down, rendering her body numb with shock.

"Ma'am...are you okay?"

His skin was pale; not sickly, but a strange kind of pale. Grey artificial plating encircled his neck save for his throat, sporting the logo of Westergard Industries. His eyes were a stunning icy blue, yet the uniform semicircles within the iris along with how they grew and shrank meant that they were cutting edge ocular implants, designed to see heat signatures and utilise night vision as well as normal eyesight. His cheeks and jaw were carved from stone, and he regarded her with a mildly puzzled expression. For Elsa, however, it went beyond puzzlement. Beyond confusion into outright fairytale disbelief. This couldn't be right. He was _dead._

"Jackson…" she breathed, barely able to take in any air. His reaction to the name, though, added a sharp knife to her heart.

Drawing his head back slightly, he frowned at her as though she was from another world and muttered, "Who the hell is Jackson?"

 **.**

 **\- - | ~ o O o ~ | - -**

 **.**

* * *

 **A/N: There we go, the twist _everyone_ saw coming.**

 **OGaV is still coming, I'm just stuck with a bit of writer's block regarding the start. Other issues too, some RL stuff, but that's neither here nor there.**

 **Next update's gonna have the good stuff.**


	3. Mnemosyne

.

" **Deus Ex: Revenant"**

 **Part 3 of 6**

 **.**

 **.**

 **\- - | ~ o O o ~ | - -**

" _ **Mnemosyne"**_

 **\- - | ~ o O o ~ | - -**

 **.**

 **.**

 _(June 27th, 2027)_

Since the LIMB clinic had been severely damaged as a result of the events of June 13th, Life in Mind and Body International had deemed it prudent to give the clinic's staff two weeks paid leave, both for them to recover and to enable the company to begin repairs. Naturally, each member of staff spent their vacation time differently; Astrid had gone on a couple of dates with Hiccup Haddock, while Rapunzel chose to split her time between indulging herself in painting and horticultural art.

Elsa, however, was spending her vacation by engaging in a much more informative pursuit - finding out how the hell her husband whom she thought had died on the operating table, was actually alive and well. Not only that, but augmented to the nines and engaging in hostage rescue missions - not to mention the heartbreaking knowledge that he had no recollection of her, or their marriage.

 **.**

 **\- - | ~ o O o ~ | - -**

 **.**

" _Who the hell is Jackson?"_

 _Elsa experienced nothing short of a gut-punch made of total surprise and pained incomprehension. This man was her husband, she was sure of it. Certainly his presence was blindsiding enough and turned her world upside down, but...how could he not know his own name?_

" _Y-you are, Jackson...don't you recognise me?" she whispered softly, feeling her heart race from being so close to him, yet tear anew at the invisible wall of empty memory between them._

' _Jackson's' head moved left and right, scanning the room - ostensibly for latent threats, she quietly assumed - before settling his gaze back down on her expression of hurt beseeching, wearing a mask of mild confusion on his pale face. "I'm sorry, ma'am," he offered apologetically, "I don't...who are you?"_

' _Who are you'. Who. Are. You. Three words that felt like a high speed slap in the face. Her heart clenched, accompanying the sharp gasp of shock, and it was no surprise that her eyes welled up with hurt._

" _Jackson...d-don't you r-remember me?" she borderline pleaded, her voice cracking on almost every syllable, "I'm...your wife...I'm Elsa…"_

 _In a way, she was gambling. Memory was a fickle maiden, and she was betting on her marriage, on the word 'wife' as something that would catalyse his recollection. Hoping that the glimmer of recognition would appear in his ice-blue ocular implants, rather than the current blank look. Her last roll of the dice._

" _Please," she nearly whimpered as her hand carefully reached up to touch his cheek, "you must know who I am…"_

 _There was a soft mechanical whirr, and the next thing she felt were cold, smooth metal fingers wrap themselves around her outstretched hand, gently enough so as to not cause pain, but firm enough to prevent her from touching him. Her breath caught at the sensation; in a way, she was subconsciously expecting the electrifying touch of his skin, not an artificial surface. Briefly, her eyes danced over the gentle embrace, wondering if he had indeed remembered her, hence the touching of their hands...but when her hopeful gaze returned to him, the blank look mingled with curious concern told her that it was not so._

" _Ma'am...are you okay?" he asked in that smooth tenor she new and loved, "I've scanned your head but I can't see any injuries to your brain...were you assaulted by one of the terrorists?"_

 _It was the final nail in the coffin of her hope, his words unknowingly cutting her to shreds. For him to insinuate...no...practically_ state outright _that her certainty in his identity was a result of a head injury would have been insulting if it didn't feel like a cold knife in her heart. She stared, dumbstruck, completely bewildered as to why he said such a thing. A single tear slipped from her left eye, tracing a hot line down her cheek, and she fought against the lump in her throat. God, why was it so hard for her to breathe, why did her chest hurt every time she breathed?_

 _The clinic's main glass doors to her right burst open with a bang and a clatter, and Elsa didn't need to look to know SWAT had just arrived - the blur of several black shapes spreading out across the room was enough._

" _Ma'am," he attempted uncertainly, pausing to glance at the arriving soldiers, "I'm not who you think I am. My name is Jack Frost, not Jackson."_

 _Elsa blinked, and for a moment debated pressing the issue, but there was grim suspicion in her mind that it was pointless. This Jack Frost truly believed he was who he said he was, and she had a feeling that nothing would change his mind. So, swallowing her pride and her pain, almost choking on the lump in her throat, she forced a smile upon her face, removed her hand and pretended._

" _You're right," she said with a voice of broken glass, "my mistake. It must have been all the excitement. You bear a strong resemblance to someone I dearly love."_

 _Jack nodded, muttered a quiet apology and curtly swept away towards the lead SWAT officer, leaving Elsa to gaze sorrowfully yet determinedly after him._

 _Like hell was it a mistake. That was Jackson Overland stood right in front of her, not Jack Frost. He was her husband, her soulmate, her love. She knew it, and so she made a decision. She was going to find out why Westergard Industries lied to her, find out everything she could about Jack Frost, and bring her husband back to her._

 _Failure was inconceivable._

 **.**

 **\- - | ~ o O o ~ | - -  
.**

Which meant a trip to Westergard Industries.

"How can I help you?" the bright faced, smiling, heavily makeup covered blonde woman asked. If Elsa wasn't so anxious, she would have silently and dryly remarked upon how the woman's rather ample and clearly visible cleavage had been hoinked up nearly to her clavicle, and whether or not Mr Westergard had difficulty meeting their eyes.

"Ah, yes," Elsa said with an attempt at an airy tone, "I have an appointment with Mr Westergard under the name Whitethorne?"

The woman took a moment to search through the appointment list; Elsa was doubtful that Hans would have agreed to the appointment had she used Overland, so she elected to book it under her maiden name. "Ah! Yes, I have you. Unfortunately, Mr Westergard is tied up in a shareholder's meeting and I am unsure as to when he will be free…"

"That's perfectly fine," Elsa smiled as she waved a casual hand, "I'll wait in his office."

The receptionist nodded and gestured for another woman - her twin, dressed in a garish yellow suit rather than the receptionist's warm red but retaining the same gravity-defying cleavage - to escort her to Hans' office.

So far, so good.

 **.**

 **\- - | ~ o O o ~ | - -**

 **.**

With the assurance that ' _Mr Westergard will be along as soon as possible',_ Elsa was left alone in the office under the assumption that she would simply sit in one of the visitor's chairs by his desk and occupy herself with the wide range of Westergard Industries brochures in the room. An example of affluent extravagance and excess, the office possessed dark mahogany walls with various paintings hung in the dead centre, the one directly behind Hans' chair being of a cybernetic arm pointing to the horizon, entitled _The Future._ Floor-to-ceiling windows occupied the wall to her right, and tall, well-tended plants took positions in the corners.

Of course, sitting and waiting was the last thing Elsa was going to do.

She cleared the vast distance between the double mahogany doors to the flat screen computer on Hans' desk in little to no time, her strides fuelled by anxiety and the knowledge that she was technically breaking the law and committing corporate espionage, and should Hans return prematurely she would be in _big_ trouble.

She rounded the desk and dropped into the chair, and as she slid it over to the keyboard on the left side her heart raced with tension - now came the technological part. Hurriedly, she unzipped her light blue handbag and quickly retrieved her secret weapon - a flash drive from Sarif Industries.

Four days ago, she had called Francis Pritchard, Sarif Industries' head of cyber-security with a suggestion and an offer; she believed that Westergard Industries had committed corporate espionage against Sarif's company, in addition to conspiracy to commit murder, and volunteered to obtain evidence. That way, if anything were to happen to her then there would be nothing to trace her back to Sarif. Initially sarcastic and wholly skeptical, Pritchard reluctantly promised to bring the matter to David Sarif's attention before ending the call. It was less than an hour before Elsa then received a call from Pritchard, informing her that ' _Mr Sarif has gone insane and accepted your offer, and suggests that you fly down to Detroit to talk to me about a method to obtain your evidence'._

Hence the flash drive. Pritchard gave her a 'nuke-virus' that would infect Hans' computer system and bypass any login passwords or firewalls, enabling her to have full and free access to all the information she desired. Once she logged off, the virus would self-destruct and leave no trace of its existence. Of course, she was bluffing about the corporate espionage part. Booting up the computer brought up the standby screen of a Westergard Industries logo, and a window prompting his username and password. "Showtime," she murmured quietly, and after a few seconds of locating the USB slot, she pushed the flash drive in.

The screen was briefly filled by dozens of black BIOS windows, covering it like a chaotic and uncontrollable mess, but it was only a few seconds before they all disappeared, leaving the login window...and letters filling the fields without her input.

HWESTERGARD  
C1TR0N

As promised - though Elsa had no doubt that Pritchard would scoff and say there was no danger of it failing - the virus granted Elsa access to Hans' computer files and promptly deleted itself. Elsa blinked - she was fairly good with computers but not an artist like Pritchard or Rapunzel's boyfriend Flynn, so the fact that the entire hack was completed in less than ten seconds was startling.

Yet, she knew she had no time to waste, and began to navigate the countless files on his hard drive.

 **.**

 **\- - | ~ o O o ~ | - -**

 **.**

Rain slammed down on Elsa's car's windshield, reducing her range of vision even further than it was during the night. The wipers worked furiously to keep the screen clear, and every thirty seconds or so she would curse the weather and how it managed to turn from dry and overcast to borderline stormy in a matter of under an hour. The rest of the time she spent watching the city street that cut through Arendelle like a sentinel, vigilant for potential accidents or idiotic drivers - of which there were _many -_ whilst listening intently to the audio files she had downloaded from Hans' computer.

Occasionally, she would glance at her rear view mirror - after all, the sensation of hairs standing up on the back of her neck was a great indicator that she might be being followed.

Downloading the data was simple enough - having searched by file names and dates, specifically Jack Frost, Sarif Industries and February 5th. Once she had collected the files, she shoved them onto the flash drive and quickly exited the office, citing a work emergency to the bewildered receptionist and apologising to what looked like the third person to bear the receptionist's resemblance - identical triplets, working in the same company and possessing the exact same cleavage in the exact same place. Uncanny. For a moment, Elsa acidly thought of them as The Bimbettes from one of the old Disney movies.

For a short time as she descended the circular glass elevator from the tenth floor to the lobby, she had entertained the notion that she had gotten away scot-free with the data in her handbag. She remembered how her breathing was taut and shallow, and her eyes danced between each and every security guard on every floor, watching out for any reactions indicating they were on alert. Thankfully, she had noticed no such behaviour pertaining to that worry, and breathed a wary sigh of relief when she exited the elevator on the lobby floor - up until she involuntarily glanced up at the second floor and noticed Hans Westergard leaning with both hands on the frosted glass waist-high wall separating him from the embrace of gravity...and he was staring right at her.

Elsa took a left at Sixth and Solstice, neglecting to indicate as she turned into Solstice Road, just as the laptop in her passenger seat spoke with a mechanical voice, as it had done the first two times.

"Playback of audio file two complete. Command?" the feminine voice asked.

"Play file, dated December twentieth, two-thousand-twenty-six." Elsa ordered curtly, her eyes still flitting between the soaking asphalt road, and each and every object in the street, from street lights to fire hydrants, from pedestrians scampering from shelter to shelter with umbrellas or newspapers above their heads. There were a few times when her heart jumped into her mouth, thinking she glimpsed a grey trench coat fluttering in the wind, but one blink later would reveal that to be a red herring.

The audio file obediently began, and once more the car was filled with Hans Westergard's smooth, snake-like voice. Once more, Elsa's stomach churned and twisted with nausea and disgust.

" _What do you want, Taka?"_ he said with an impatient bite. " _I'm too busy for trivial matters."_

Another voice radiated from the laptop's speakers, one with far more elegance and refinement than Hans', but with equal menace dripping from each syllable spoken with an upper-class English accent. " _Something you may be interested in, Hans. You recall the fire at White Helix Labs?"_

" _Yes,"_ Hans' voice sounded even more irritable, " _as I recall several scientists were killed in the fire. Get to the point."_

" _Well,"_ Taka sounded proud, almost playful, like a gossiper with a big celebrity secret. " _Apparently,_ _someone rather myopically created a back-door protocol in their cyber-security software - one of my_ _sources within Sarif Industries used it to do some digging, and told me the fire was intentionally set by two of the employees."_

" _Why?"_ Hans asked, his curiosity piqued.

" _To cover their success. White Helix Labs was engaged in experimental genetic therapy on children, aiming to eliminate the need for Neuropozyne and eliminate Darrow Deficiency Syndrome, and for the most part they were unsuccessful, except for one."_ Taka explained languidly.

" _Adam Jensen…"_ Hans breathed. " _But...why are you telling me this?"_

Taka continued, " _Well, Jensen was rescued from the fire by another employee, however his parents perished in the fire they set. For some time, it was thought that he was the only survivor of the experiments...but Jensen is not the only miracle of augmentation. There is...another."_

" _Who?"_ Hans asked, and Elsa found herself rapt with attention, forgetting to scan the road as vigilantly as she did before.

" _Well, thanks to the fire, the records of his original name were destroyed. Not only that, but the janitor - an undercover police officer - who spirited him away gave him a new identity. A new life, a new family, a new home. Right here in Arendelle City. He goes by the name of-"_

"Jackson Overland…" Elsa breathed in shock. Her husband was a genetic experiment, a scientific _guinea pig_ for augmentation. Someone put him through hell from a young age _by design_ , tinkering with his DNA so that someday parts of his body would be replaced with titanium, dermal armour, carbon fibre and artificial electrodes. "Oh my God…" she whispered, one hand covering her mouth. Jackson said he could never recall his early years, and Elsa put it down to the simple passage of time.

The truth was even more horrifying.

" _Tell me about him."_ Hans ordered.

" _He lives in Guardian Street, five miles outside the city. He has a wife called Elsa Overland, who works as a doctor in one of the LIMB clinics near here. He is a school teacher - Literature, I believe."_ Taka dutifully obeyed, speaking with startling indifference.

Hans' command was absolute. " _Shadow him. Record his routine, I want to know where he goes every day, what he does, and when. I want to know his likes and dislikes, what his hobbies are, what he does for his wife. Report back to me when you have what I need, and not before. Is that clear?"_

Taka's reply was sneering and borderline contemptuous. " _Perfectly."_

Elsa felt like she could throw up. Had her attention not been refocused upon the road, she probably would have done. Their lives had been stalked, recorded, probably photographed for over a month before Jackson's 'death'. Wherever she, or Jackson went every day, they were covertly followed and their movements noted down for Westergard's unknown purposes. Maybe their private moments too...were they being observed when she and Jackson made love? What about Anna, had she been surveilled too?

Elsa had never barked an order at the laptop so quickly in her life, when it requested the next command - and not long after did another conversation between Hans and Taka fill the car with its menace, indifference and contempt for life.

" _You called, Mr Westergard?"_ Taka opened the dialogue with his customary honeyed voice.

Hans' reply was brusque and matter-of-fact. " _I want Jackson Overland. I have reviewed your records of his movements, and I want to have him as soon as humanly possible. Fate has granted us with an opportunity I do_ not _want to pass up."_

Elsa could picture Taka smiling as he replied. " _I thought you might, that's why I have already made arrangements."_

" _Tell me."_ Hans prompted.

" _Once a week, Jackson likes to stop at a florist to buy a bouquet for his wife - white lilies, purple crocuses and bluebells, as I recall. Using a proxy, I contacted Pitch Black, the leader of Arendelle's Purity First cell and proposed a deal - they are to ambush Jackson as soon as he exits the florist shop. Certainly, there is a risk he could be killed outright, but I stated that they should be shooting to wound, otherwise they would not be paid for their effort."_ Taka explained calmly, chillingly so.

" _Can it be traced back to us?"_ Hans asked, and Elsa easily detected the hint of worry in his voice.

" _No,"_ Taka chuckled, " _I heavily suggested to some of my friends in the police force that they would be wise to loiter at the corner near the florist shop. As soon as the Purity members open fire, they will in turn be killed by police retaliation. Our trail ends there."_

There was a brief moment of silence, filled only by the sound of Elsa's heart beat rushing in her ears. Until...Hans spoke the words that intensified her sense of shock. " _Do it."_

She couldn't breathe. She couldn't _breathe._ No matter how hard she tried, her lungs refused to work, save only for a strangled cry that escaped her throat. Her eyes welled with tears while a trembling hand covered her grimacing mouth, and choking sobs started to take the place of the indiscernible noise of grief. She was horrified, enraged, nauseous, heartbroken and completely bewildered all at once. Jackson Overland, her husband, was destined to _die._ He was fated to be mortally wounded at the selfish desire of Hans Westergard, the man who walked into Jackson's ward.

The man who played the role of the sympathetic philanthropist, acted the part the comforting friend, the potential _saviour of Jackson Overland's life!_ He skillfully performed the role Elsa needed him to be, _knowing_ that Jackson was dying in the hospital under _his_ order. She begged him to save Jackson's life, when _he_ was the reason her husband had been shot in the first place! Hatred for him mingled with hatred for herself, for so easily falling for his charms, his empathy and his offer. The man was a sociopath, she had no doubt. He had what he wanted, and being able to watch Elsa's suffering was the icing on the cake.

She began to hyperventilate, unable to get enough oxygen to her lungs. She felt... _violated._ Abused. Manipulated, and played like an unwitting fiddle into practically _handing_ her husband over on a silver platter. She hadn't noticed, in her enraged grief, that she had suddenly stopped in the middle of the street, barely aware of the angry honks aimed at her by disgruntled drivers as they passed. Not that she cared. Gripped by sobs, she felt the overwhelming urge to strike something, so with shrieks that punctuated each impact she slammed her fist down on the steering wheel over and over again, setting off the car horn each time, before burying her face in her hands and collapsing into tears. "I'm sorry…" she managed to cry, "I'm so sorry Jackson...I let them do this…you counted on me to protect you and I let them do this…"

" _Warning. Pedestrian in path of vehicle. Adjust direction."_

Elsa's sobbing instantly froze at the robotic male voice of her car's proximity warning system, informing her of an obstruction in the road. Except...she wasn't moving, and every car that passed was giving her a wide berth. Sniffing, she lifted her head from her arms and squinted through both the veil of tears and the waterfall of rain - and her heart chilled with fear.

Only one person she knew wore a three-quarter length grey trench coat and blue hood, and that person was standing thirty feet away, with blades extended from inside his sleeves held at a slight angle away from his body and an emotionless expression on his face.

"Jack…" she breathed.

Then she remembered the sinister feeling on the back of her neck as she left Westergard Industries, remembered the imperious glare she received from Hans. He found out about her clandestine and illegal downloading of his secrets, and in a sick joke must have sent Jack Frost to retrieve the data...and kill her.

She blinked.

He vanished.

Survival instinct kicked in, derived from the realisation that Jack had just cloaked and was approaching her - and on this occasion, thanks to the rain she had no hope of picking out the rippling effect as he moved. Her foot slammed down on the gas, forcing the tyres to screech uselessly against the wet ground as the engine burst into life. Elsa was beginning to panic just as the tyres gained purchase on the ground and surged the car forward, thrusting her back into the driver's seat with such force that it thrust the wind from her chest. Gasping, she wrenched the steering wheel to the left just in time to avoid a motorbike that had overtaken her, weaving in and out of the moderate traffic much like she did four months ago - except on this occasion she was decidedly freaking out.

Especially when there was a thud that came from the car's roof, one that was infinitely heavier than the falling rain. Like an object landing on the roof - or more accurately, a person. Elsa's head shot over her shoulder and then back to the road, barely able to breathe for shock and panic. Indignant car horns provided a symphony for the ordeal, with the street lamps, headlights and storefronts being the visual entertainment as she rushed by, careful not to crash but equally mindful that _Jack Frost was holding on to her roof._ She gunned the gas, hoping that the speed would dislodge him, but when she heard the sound of metal being slowly dented, and noticed the peaking of the fabric behind her, a rush of alarm involuntarily jerked her arms to the right without warning, forcing her sideways as the car spun helplessly along the soaking asphalt. The world on the other side of the windshield went right to left, right to left, from tail-lights to headlights and back again, and after the fourth or fifth spin Elsa wasn't sure if she was going to throw up out of fear or centrifugal force.

Eventually the car slowed to a stop facing the opposite way she came. Panting, gasping for breath, she suffered the insane rhythm of her heart as she viciously gripped the steering wheel, her eyes wide as she waited for the world to stop spinning and for her stomach to cease its nauseating gurgles. There were many ways that could have gone down, and it was a miracle that the inertia hadn't flipped the car. Slowly, numbly, she lifted her head to peer over the steering wheel's rim - and she saw him. He wasn't moving.

Prone on the ground, Jack Frost lay still, his arm bent at an unnatural angle. His coat was dark grey thanks to the soaking rain, and his snow white hair was sopping wet with water and streaks of red, his hood having been pulled off - and the blades still poked out of the sleeve. Vicious, sharp, grey blades that two weeks ago claimed the lives of several Purity First terrorists. Elsa emitted a squeak of fear and guilt as her hands automatically covered her mouth - that was her husband on the floor, motionless. She had thrown him from the car into the road, and given the speed she was travelling at, there was a flash of panic in her heart that she had killed _him._

Rain continued to relentlessly fall, hammering at the windshield and at the drivers that left their cars to check on the lifeless body in the road - Elsa felt the overwhelming urge to join them, to see if her husband was okay...but the paralysing fear took over and saw to that. Time slowed as her eyes remained fixed upon the scene, watching as a woman with astoundingly curly red hair knelt by Jack's side. Elsa felt a flash of jealousy - something that was quickly tossed aside when she saw the blades suddenly retract into his arm.

Elsa watched the flame-haired woman back away in fright as Jack slowly lifted his body from the ground, pushing up with one hand while the other hung uselessly at his side. Pausing for a moment while sat on his feet, Jack lifted his face to the sky with closed eyes, ostensibly feeling the droplets on his face and letting them wash the blood away. He slipped his right arm out of the coat's sleeve so as to slide his impaired limb out of the other, and in a moment of what looked like anger he tore off the left sleeve of his sweater. The silver grey arm revealed, Elsa's gut churned at the sight of his forearm stuck at an angle at which no human limb should be.

She then watched in...wonder...as his arm opened up in sections; the bicep and tricep panels separated from the upper arm, along with the two panels protecting his forearm, revealing what in a weird way _should_ have been his bone structure but was instead a complex system of pistons, wires and objects that she couldn't even begin to recognise. The elbow joint dislocated itself from the forearm, which then rotated about ninety degrees until it was in the right position, and then relocated itself with a quick movement, followed by the armor panels re-integrating themselves with the limb.

Just like that, in less than fifteen seconds, Jack's arm was fixed.

"Nope," Elsa breathed. Slamming the gear stick into R, she hit the gas and reversed far away as fast as she could, making sure to look outside the rear window and _not_ at the cybernetic assassin probably looking her way. She wrenched the steering wheel to the left so hard that it was in danger of being ripped off, shoved the stick into D when the car pointed at the junction of Solstice and Fourth, and then hit the gas once more to carry her away from him as fast as she could muster. Taking a sharp right at the junction - and narrowly avoiding oncoming traffic as the light was red, not that she cared - she endured the adrenaline-fuelled racing of her heart and borderline hyperventilation as the car thundered down Fourth Street.

Elsa travelled like that for some time, checking the mirrors every five seconds for even the _slightest_ sign that she was being followed, or that her husband-slash-cybernetic-assassin was chasing her, and it was several minutes of event-less driving later before she could let herself calm down. Her breathing was the first thing to slow, giving her something to focus on while her heart rate began to follow suit. She clenched and relaxed her hands on the steering wheel, occasionally flicking one hand back to fiddle with her braid, and only when her body reached a state of semi-calm did she finally pick up on her surroundings.

Specifically, the road signs - one in particular led to Arendelle Lake and Arboretum in three turns' time.

She blinked while an idea dawned in her mind, an idea so risky, so cliched it just might work. If she wanted her husband back, then the lake was the best place to do it - one of their happiest memories took place there, after all.

 **.**

 **\- - | ~ o O o ~ | - -**

 **.**

Gazing at the calm, glass-like surface of Arendelle Lake in the night time, the cool air rushed into her lungs and out again, focusing her and calming her, preparing her for what was to come. The rain had dwindled to almost nothing just before she arrived, leaving only the smell of moisture in the air - clean and exhaust-free. Her heart was remarkably calm, and peace existed where fear once dominated, brought about by the relative silence broken only by the breeze rustling the trees surrounding the lake. Clutching her black suit around her, she mentally remarked on the complete contrast between now and the chase thirty minutes earlier.

It was a good thing, because she didn't need the sound of footsteps in the grass behind her to know that Jack Frost had arrived. Swallowing and then exhaling a galvanizing breath, her feet turned of their own accord, bringing her face to face with him.

There was a nasty scrape on the left side of his face, though the rain had washed it clean. His hair was soaked and flat, and his trench-coat bore more than a few streaks of dirt and tearing due to his impromptu liaison with the asphalt. His arms hung at his sides, the blades ostensibly retracted inside his forearms, but his expression was something that stilled her heart - cold and emotion free, like it was just another Tuesday. Silently, they stared at each other, Elsa's hands clasped together in front while she stood, apathetic to the cool temperature and the fact that Jack was a living weapon pointed at her.

And when he spoke, it was flat but commanding, "Give me the flash drive, Mrs Overland."

Elsa slowly shook her head. "No, Jackson. I refuse."

Jack's left arm moved up to point at her, and she nearly took a step back when his hand dislocated itself at the wrist to fix itself under his forearm, which then separated and realigned itself to form - something that betrayed a gasp - a single-barrelled gun.

"I'm not who you think I am, Mrs Overland," he spoke, his voice dangerously close to a growl, "and I won't ask again."

Elsa swallowed down the newly grown lump in her throat, and fought the pricking in her eyes. "You're wrong. You are exactly who I know you to be. You are my husband, Jackson Overland, whom I love."

Jack remained silent, though Elsa took the fact that she was still standing as a clue to continue, "I knew it was you the moment I saw you in the clinic, because there was only one man who could make my heart race and sing even when all he did was stand beside me. No-one, not even that Ralph person Rapunzel suggested I date could ever have that effect on me. Your hair may be white, your eyes may be blue, but you are _still my soulmate,_ and there is _nothing_ you can say that will change that."

Jack's stance faltered for a brief second, his arm dropping a few inches before he reasserted himself. "Mrs Overland, stop. You are confused, you are in pain. If you give me the flash drive, I will walk away and you will never see me again. I will not harm you."

Elsa shook head again, though the pricking at her eyes returned with a vengeance - holding back the tears was becoming increasingly difficult.

"No, Jackson. I will do no such thing. I am not confused, but I _am_ in pain. I thought I lost you four months ago, I thought that I would never see you again, but fate granted me a second chance in the clinic - only for you to not recognise me. Your own wife. The woman who loves you with every fibre of her being." she spoke determinedly, every word from her heart, every sentence the unadulterated truth.

She drew a breath through her nose, and swallowed once more. "Do you remember this place?" she asked - no hope, no expectation, merely a question. Jack shook his head...but Elsa's eyes moved around and took in every inch of the scene, basking in memory.

"One of the happiest days of my life happened here - where you proposed to me. You were dressed in a smart white shirt and navy blue slacks, while I wore my green summer dress. You picked a pink lily from the florist shop on the way here, and placed it in my hair when we arrived. I remember holding your hand while you held a picnic basket in the other. We walked around the lake; there was no hurry, no agitation, just two people in true love...and eventually, we sat-"

Elsa paused to raise her left hand and point to a patch of clear grass near the lake's shore, where a patch of purple crocuses grew.

"-just over there to have a picnic. We thought it would be a nice romantic scene; you and I, listening to the kids playing in the lake, eating our food in the sunshine, content to just be together. You tried to cover the ground in rose petals, but a gust of wind blew them away onto the lake. Ants attempted to steal the chocolate cake you brought, and I spilled hot chocolate down the front of my dress. And as if that wasn't bad enough, you forgot that the forecast was for a few showers during the afternoon, so once we thought we were safe from the insects, the wind and anything else that would mess with our picnic, the heavens opened up above us. We ran-"

She paused again, and pointed to a gazebo where brass bands usually played.

"-to find shelter in there, and that was when you slumped to the floor, looking so frustrated and heartbroken. I asked you what was wrong, and you said that it was supposed to be a lovely, romantic, happy picnic. Everything was supposed to go right, because that day was the day you were going to ask me to spend the rest of my life with you. I remember you pulling out the jewellery box from your pocket and showing it to me, looking like your entire day was ruined. I still have that ring-" she paused again to draw her necklace from under her shirt, upon which hung a silver engagement ring with a sapphire stone housed in the middle, "-and I never take it off. Do you know what I said to you?"

She didn't even look at Jack, nor wait for him to say yes.

"I told you that it didn't matter to me if you proposed on the top of Mount Everest, or in a booth at Gogo's bar. I had been waiting months for you to propose, and I always felt so excited whenever we went out somewhere, even if it was just to the supermarket, because that day might be the day when you asked me to marry you. After a while, I wondered if you even _wanted_ to - but you did," she continued, and looked down at the grassy ground in thought and near-resignation.

"I told you that it didn't matter that everything had gone wrong, that it was probably one of the most hilariously bad proposals ever, because my answer was yes. It was always yes, because I loved you then, Jackson. I still love you now. I always have, and I always will, even if you're pointing a gun at me because you're under orders to kill me." Taking a deep breath through her nose, she psyched herself for what was to come. She had said her piece, taken him to a place they both held dear, and the ball was now in his court.

"So please," she pleaded, her voice losing its impetus thanks to the suffocating growth in her throat, "if you're going to do it, then don't wait any longer...because I would rather die than face another day without you beside me."

Her words hung in the air, creating an uncomfortable silence between them. Her eyes screwed shut, tears slowly escaped and slid down her bowed face, awaiting the inevitable shot and the immediate embrace of blissful oblivion.

"Elsa…" Jack croaked.

Her head whipped around just as a series of metallic clunks and clicks accompanied the retracting of the gun in his arm, but his face was the thing that held her attention. His blue eyes were wide and bloodshot, and his chest rose and fell with ragged breaths like he was struggling for air through his parted lips. He stared at her in blank shock and recognition, his limbs trembling as though too heavy for him to lift.

"Jackson…" she breathed.

Seemingly at the sound of her voice, he blinked before slowly opening his hands and holding them before him, and it was when he looked away from her and down at his shaking artificial digits that his face contorted into uncomprehending horror, and he screamed. Elsa's heart clenched and twisted; hearing her husband react in such a way cut her to pieces, especially since it almost looked like he was seeing his augments for the first time.

Spurred into action by Jack's pain, Elsa rushed to him just as he collapsed to his knees, held her right hand around the back of his head while the other wrapped around his back, and pulled him close to her. His movements completely under her control, seemingly numb with shock and realisation, he convulsed as he sobbed into her shoulder, his hands still held either side of her waist but nowhere near touching her.

It wasn't long before she began to weep in unison, for her husband had finally returned to her...but time would tell regarding just how much Hans Westergard had broken him, and under all the implants, chips and augmentations, just how much of Jackson Overland was left.

 **.**

 **\- - | ~ o O o ~ | - -**

 **.**

* * *

 **A/N: Having fun with these titles.**

 **So yeah, welcome back, Jack. I think my hatred of Hans is showing. Woops, sorrynotsorry.**

 **Ah, who am I kidding. I think he's a fantastic villain, I just get tired of the same old "he's redeemable" stuff. He's not. Redeemable villains are starting to become old hat - give me some thoroughly evil, sociopathic, destructive villains that don't have a good bone in their body. Give me Joker, Hannibal Lecter, Voldemort. Give me villains that know what they want and don't care how many lives they have to end to get it. Sure, Loki is fun, but I've run out of my tiny violins. Keep standing on 'em.**

 **I'm letting my mouth run away with me. Suffice to say, Hans' actions in Frozen speak for themselves. Attempting to murder Elsa and Anna was the most honest thing he ever did. Love? HAH. Sociopaths cannot love. They cannot empathise. They don't recognise love - they can see and mimic the signs, but actual love? Pfft. In my mind, he is unredeemable, and no Southern Isles culture, no loveless upbringing, no false good deeds will change that.**

 **Hans is perfect the way he is. A heartless, sociopathic, nihilistic murderous bastard. To pretend otherwise is like painting a pistol with glitter - sure it looks good, but it'll still kill you.**

 **As Commodore James Norrington said in _Pirates of the Caribbean: One good deed is not enough to redeem a man of a lifetime of wickedness._**

 _ **(jeez, kinda ran away with it there)**_


	4. Eleos

.

" **Deus Ex: Revenant"**

 **Part 4 of 6**

 **.**

 **.**

 **\- - | ~ o O o ~ | - -**

" _ **Eleos"**_

 **\- - | ~ o O o ~ | - -**

 **.**

 **.**

 _(July 5th, 2027)_

Curled up on the bed, her back to the motel door as she faced the faded peach coloured wallpaper coloured an ugly shade of yellow thanks to the evening sunset streaming through the window, Elsa huddled her arms close and made a decision.

It was official: being on the run was awful, and not like the movies would lead you to believe. For the most part Elsa was not 'running' but hiding in a motel room, a common occurrence ever since she had pulled Jackson...Jack...into the back seat of her car. Having spent a long time comforting him in the wet grass to the point that her skirt was sodden and her knees muddy, Jack eventually regained the presence of mind to inform her that she had been tracked ever since she downloaded the data; one of Hans' insurance policies was to install a tracking algorithm that would infect data as it was downloaded, as he rarely did so. It was how Jack found her in the street.

Naturally, Elsa tossed the laptop out of her window just after she removed the flash drive, but what happened after that unnerved her to the core, despite being incredibly familiar with augmentations - Jack had lifted his sweater up to reveal quite a toned abdomen, which would have been quite a turn on had there not been a sequence of shiny grey panels inching their way up the side of his torso, one of which he pressed with two of his fingers, and promptly plucked a tiny spherical device from the socket that was revealed when the panel slid back with a quiet hiss. Apparently it had been a tracking device - Hans' distrust even extended to his assassins, so anyone with an augment in his company was tracked. _Especially_ those with military level augmentations.

So that too was tossed out of the window before they drove off, hoping they could buy time and escape while Hans' lackeys unknowingly followed the signal.

What Elsa was decidedly unprepared for was just how stressful, paranoia-inducing and sometimes downright fearful being on the run was. Even the simplest, most casual things she took for granted instantly became treacherous and risky; credit cards could be tracked, so Jack destroyed them all, and the only cash they had was what Elsa drained from her bank account - a respectable amount, but finite. Calls too could be tracked, so her trusty phone was crushed within grey metal digits attached to a rather regretful and apologetic man, and emphasis was placed on cheap 'burner' phones if calls were absolutely necessary. Her smart clothing had to go too, gone was the moderately pricey white blouse, black blazer and skirt, replaced with an ice-blue hooded sweater, black leggings and cheap sneakers. Not that she minded - they were actually fairly comfortable, but they were a constant reminder of the drawbacks of going on the lam. If they had to travel, it was at dusk or nighttime, and daylight was spent holed up in a motel going stir crazy and watching television.

And that was a problem in and of itself, because an unwelcome sensation of uncertainty had settled in Elsa's heart, set down roots and refused to leave. It had started roughly on the first day they checked into a motel on the outskirts of the city - she had heard the smashing of glass in the bathroom, rushed through to see what had happened, and found Jack with his fist halfway through a hole in the wall where the mirror used to be - evidently he'd taken a look at his reflection and hated what he saw, unable to cope with the change. For some reason, Elsa had found herself paralysed by indecision at the bathroom's threshold, maybe it was the sight of the metal panels creeping up from his hips to the lowest rib and up the entirety of his spine, or maybe it was the fact that he had _punched a hole in the wall out of self-hatred._ Whatever it was, it gave her pause.

As a result of that, they had not touched each other since the night at the lake. Not one single touch, nor an accidental brushing of the skin. There had been zero contact ever since they arrived, to the point that Elsa took the bed and slept alone while Jack - who only required an hour or so - spent the night looking out of the window. It was heartbreaking; she wanted so much to have him back in her life, and as of a week ago she had succeeded...so for her to suddenly become unwilling to touch him was confusing and, judging by the crestfallen expression every time she flinched away when he would reach out to touch her hand, extremely hurtful for Jack. For someone who already despised what he had become, to have his wife recoil every time he moved close made it even worse...and she knew it. She couldn't help it.

Whenever he left the motel room, usually to avoid an argument or simply to gather supplies, Elsa spent her time in silence staring at the wall, trying to work out precisely why she was scared to touch her husband. It didn't make sense; the moment he walked away in the LIMB clinic, she had decided she was going to fight to get him back - one obstacle between her and her true love. After that, it was the car chase and his memories - second obstacle, also overcome. It aroused and intensified a feeling of deep guilt and self-loathing within her when she realised that she had essentially at best lied to, or at worst deluded herself in the hospital when she said she would love him whatever he looked like. Fighting tooth and nail to get him back left her with exactly what she wanted, her husband...and she found that when crunch time came she couldn't put her money where her mouth was.

There was one final obstacle between her and her true love, and it was one of her own making. Fear and prejudice. Jackson had gone through such a drastic change, and for a period of time was actually _out to kill_ her that for the first time in over a decade, she was unsure of how to proceed with him...and in an even more heartbreaking aspect, partially regretting her actions in Westergard Industries, wondering if she shouldn't have opened Pandora's box to get her husband back.

She couldn't do all that and then suddenly shrink away when she was victorious - it wasn't fair to him and she was starkly aware of that fact...but she couldn't help it.

The motel door opened with a click, and Elsa's hand automatically slid under the pillow to grip the pistol Jack bought from a shady weapons dealer the second day into their disappearance - the rule was that she was to quickly roll off the bed and shoot under it at the intruder's legs if she didn't hear Jack's voice informing her that it was safe - and thanks to Astrid's insistence on hitting the firing range as a coping mechanism after Jackson's 'death', she was a pretty skilled shot.

"It's just me," came Jack's low greeting, and the hand automatically relaxed with a relieved sigh. She sat up against the headboard just as he closed the door behind him, and watched as he carefully lowered two large paper bags onto the circular wood, two person table under the window. Reaching into the pocket of his black long coat, he tossed the car keys onto the table with a clatter - another drawback of being on the run, Elsa had to sell her car. Licence plates could be tracked, and there were enough security cameras in the city for anyone on Westergard's payroll to spot them. Therefore rental cars were the preferred method of travel - paid for with cash, naturally.

Elsa watched as he set to work on pulling the spoils from the first bag, which happened to be a few foil cases of something that set her stomach growling thanks to the delicious smell, and bit her lip as she watched him pull off his gloves and set to work unwrapping the takeout.

"I brought Thai," he offered quietly. Elsa's eyes remained on his metal fingertips as they delicately pulled the foil rims away from the cardboard lids - hands that could punch through concrete and twist a man's head almost three-sixty degrees, yet capable of such gentleness and precision. Maybe it was what those hands were capable of that made her flinch.

"It smells good," she said softly. Inhaling more of the aroma, she picked out the inimitable ginger hint in the air, and her lips curled. "Ginger chicken stir fry." she murmured in nostalgia.

It seemed that Jack possessed hearing implants too, "Yeah, I went to our favourite Thai place," he said as he pulled out a pair of disposable plates from the bag, then must have noticed the flash of worry on her face without looking, "don't worry, I wasn't followed."

Elsa studied the side of his face for a few moments, watching as he focused on the oh-so-tricky task of spilling her stir fry onto her plate - he was still avoiding eye contact which hurt like hell, but she knew she didn't exactly have cause to complain. Pulling her bangs back over her head and sliding a strand behind her ear, she slid off the bed and made her way to the opposite chair from Jack, who had begun scraping the red curry out of his foil tin. Noticing this, she frowned and questioned, "I thought you said you didn't like how hot the red curry could be?"

Jack shrugged, and shoved the empty foil tin back into the bag. "I don't," he replied a little curtly.

"Then...why did you choose red rather than your favourite green?" she asked.

"Because," Jack began with what he must have wanted to be nonchalance, but came off cynical, "the Westergard Vitality System automatically neutralizes anything that could possibly cause irritation in my body. Meaning: this curry is no more hot than a loaf of bread."

There was a slight hint of bitterness to his voice as he spoke, so Elsa chose not to pursue it and instead took a seat while Jack removed his coat and tossed it onto the sofa, the thin white blanket across it serving as evidence of where he slept every night. Choosing to keep his navy blue hooded sweater on, he pulled the sleeves over his hands before he returned to the chair.

"I swung by Anna's before I went to the takeout place," he announced quietly as he sat. Elsa looked up in surprise and curiosity; still he avoided her eyes as he picked up his fork, and scratched the side of his snow-white head with the other hand.

"Is she...okay?" Elsa asked.

Jack nodded as he shoved a forkful into his mouth, chewing briefly before swallowing. "She's fine, from what my implants…" he hesitated, "...from what I could tell."

"Was she being watched?"

Jack nodded slowly, and a grim expression settled upon his face. "Black SUV, parked fifty or so yards away from her house. They didn't see me, but...I'm sorry, Elsa. I'm sorry that you can't see her."

Elsa said nothing, choosing instead to stab a piece of chicken and slide it into her mouth. She dearly loved her sister, and would love nothing more than to just call and tell Anna that she was okay, and not to worry. The problem there was that it was an obvious move, therefore Westergard's security forces were way ahead of her. Physical surveillance outside the house, proven by Jack, and more than likely a phone trace program to intercept calls - even from burner phones.

The meal was eaten in relative silence, with the fog of unsaid words and hesitation between them so thick that it could be cut with a knife. Occasionally Elsa would look up at her husband, but his gaze was focused entirely on his curry. While she ate, she wondered how long they were going to be like that, how long her heart would keep trying to burst out of her ribcage and fly towards him, only to be held back by her mind.

"What's in the other bag?" she asked, hoping small talk would help.

Jack's eyes briefly wandered to the paper bag to his left, and then back down to his food as he chewed. "Just some other things." he muttered evasively.

Elsa opened her mouth to pursue the topic, since Jack's lacklustre reply had aroused a sense of anxious curiosity - all through their marriage, he had never lied to her, not even once. On this occasion, he was dodging questions about a simple bag's contents. Hiding things. Considering she was taking a hell of a risk going on the run with him, the fact that their mutual trust didn't extend to that question hurt her.

On the other hand...the past four months weren't exactly normal.

Having only a tenuous appetite, Elsa finished just over half of her stir fry before indicating she had eaten enough, whilst Jack had polished off his entire plate. Exhaling loudly through his nose, he rose from the chair and wordlessly reached over to pick up her plate...and as her hands were resting on the table either side of the half-eaten meal, his sleeve inadvertently pulled itself up and his hand accidentally brushed against her left.

She flinched and recoiled, like his touch caused her pain.

Jack's hand froze halfway through lifting her plate, and she heard a small and sharp drawing of breath, followed by a rather long exhalation as he shoved the plates back into the takeout bag. She screwed her eyes shut in self-reproach; every damn time. She knew it hurt him, and it sure as hell hurt her, and she _hated_ reacting in such a way to nothing more than accidental contact. She just couldn't stop herself. Burying her hands in her lap, she opened her eyes and watched through their corners as Jack slipped his hands into the sweater pocket, reassumed his place and sighed.

"Is this how it's going to be?" he asked the armor-piercing question - still without looking at her. Elsa's hands wrung themselves in her lap; she wanted to answer no, she wanted to say that it was just an obstacle, that they would be back to normal…

...but the fact was things would _never_ be 'back to normal'. Nothing would be the same again, both physically and...well...in almost every other word that ended with '-ally'. It was that uncomfortable knowledge that stilled her words, and widened the chasm that existed between them.

She heard an excruciatingly loud sigh, not exaggerated enough to be theatrical, but loud enough to wordlessly voice his lack of patience with the situation. "I bought us a few other things," he said flatly, and pulled the bag from the table. Elsa watched as he rested it on his lap and began to pull out its contents one by one. "There's a couple of baseball caps for us, and I made sure they were plain. Couple of fake specs, some of the soda you like...and…" he paused after sliding the bottle of fizzy lemonade onto the table, "...some liquid courage."

Elsa's eyes snapped to the bottle of Jack Daniel's as it landed on the table with a mild, wooden thud. She stared at it in disquiet; Jackson rarely drank outside of nights out or meals with family, so it just went to show what had changed. Jack's hands dove into the bag once more to retrieve a cheap looking glass, and wasted no time in pouring some of the amber liquid into it wearing an expression of cynical resignation. Elsa bit her lip, strangely conscious of her breathing and the aching that came with it. "You never used to like whiskey," she observed rather pointlessly.

Jack shrugged, and bitterly chuckled. "Yeah, well," he muttered, "it's not like it'll do anything." Downing the glass in one, he wiped his mouth with his sleeve and continued, "Hell, I nearly bought a pack of smokes...but thanks to the all-powerful _Westergard Vitality System,"_ he said mockingly, saying the name in a dark, sing-song voice, "the damage is automatically nullified, so I can't get drunk no matter how much alcohol I put away," Sniffing, he poured himself another half-glass before sneering, "I can't even destroy my own body. How messed up is that?"

His words stabbed at her heart, hearing that he was effectively suicidal. He didn't stop there, however; upon downing another glass in one, he put the glass back on the table and held it - a quick glance revealed that tiny fractures were spreading like a web from his fingertips.

He dropped the bombshell with a quiet, anguished voice, "You should have let me die."

Elsa drew a sharp breath; if his previous words hurt, those damn near killed her. She drew a fist and held it over her chest, and glared at him in offended anger. "How can you _say_ that?" she hissed.

Jack merely shrugged, chewing at his cheek. "S'true, though. It would have been so much simpler for you. None of this," he waved dismissively at the motel room, "would have happened. You'd still be with your sister, still be working. You wouldn't be looking over your shoulder all the time, hiding in crappy motels. You'd be free."

Elsa shook her head, and abandoned all hope of controlling the crack in her voice. "No, Jack. I would be dead." she said. Jack looked up for the first time in...well...forever, and shot her an uncomprehending frown. "If you had died, you wouldn't have been there at the clinic to save us. Pitch Black would have killed us all."

Jack's gaze faltered; his eyes dropped to her hand, and then returned to the floor between them. "That wasn't me, though." he murmured. "That was a warped version of me."

"Yes, it was!" she protested, "underneath it all, it was you!"

Jack held up a hand. "With all due respect, Elsa," he said slowly, "you weren't the one who watched yourself being hacked apart like a mannequin, and then put back together like a goddamn metal jigsaw puzzle."

Whatever Elsa was about to say, instantly disappeared. The bomb had been dropped, the elephant in the room immovably sat on the sofa. It was stated so flatly, so matter-of-fact, that she didn't quite know how to respond - but she knew exactly what he was referring to. On the third evening, she had managed to convince Jack to let her do the supply run, and after some time he reluctantly agreed. When she returned forty-five minutes later, she opened the door to find him staring in shock at the flat-screen television - one curious glance towards it had dropped both her stomach _and_ the Italian takeout to the floor. She had accidentally left the flash drive in her nightstand, hoping to protect him from the truth, and at some point he must have found it - on the television screen was a visual recording of _his own augmentation procedure._

Even she hadn't seen it yet, but she knew it was the last thing on the list of files she had downloaded. The sight of his right arm being amputated at the shoulder while another surgeon attached a grey prosthetic left leg was the last thing he saw before she hurriedly switched the television off, and the silence that followed was heart-rending.

He spent the next three hours holed up in the locked bathroom, and she could hear choked crying for two of those hours.

At least he had the forethought to temporarily disable the television's connection to the 'net; she should be thankful for small mercies, she remembered thinking bitterly at the time.

"Why did you…" he began, but paused as if to find the words, "Why did you let them do that to me?"

It was all coming out, now. All of the unsaid words, the veritable herd of elephants in the room, everything that had been bottled up. Elsa choked on a sob, trying _desperately_ hard to swallow it down, and stared at him in wounded heartbreak.

"I didn't know that Hans would do that to you, make you do those things!" she shouted. "I did it because...because I was selfish, because I didn't want to lose you! I let him do it, allowed myself to fall for his fake sympathy because I couldn't face another day without you…everything I said in the park was true!" she paused, staring at him with incredulous, tearful eyes while his face remained impassive and off to the side.

"I did it because I loved you, Jack! I love you!"

Jack gently scoff-chuckled, the bitterness so strong she involuntarily started. "You love me...and yet you can't bring yourself to touch me."

Elsa gasped, and the hurt anguish fuelling her outburst faded instantly. There it was, the salient point. Her fist fell onto her lap, and her gaze faltered - but not before catching sight of a single tear sliding down from his left eye. "All I really wanted," he said quietly but brokenly, "was my wife to hold me. To wrap me up in her arms, hold me to her chest and tell me it was all going to be okay. That no matter what they did to me, no matter how much everything had changed, that it was all going to be okay. But she couldn't even do that…"

Another tear joined the first, and Elsa felt the iron weight of guilt settle in her heart as her tears followed suit. It was true; Jack was broken, vulnerable, and needed her...but her fear, her inability to deal with just how much he had changed held her back.

It got worse when he said, "Then again, why would she? I'm a _monster."_

Her breath caught, stymied by the lump in her throat. "Jack...you're not a-"

Evidently he either disagreed or saw no reason to continue the conversation, as he interrupted her with a curt "I need to get some air," before rising from the seat and plucking one of the baseball caps from the table, grabbing his long coat from the sofa and hurriedly opening the door to leave.

Faced only with the abrupt departure and the silence that followed, Elsa could do nothing else but bury her face into her hands and weep for what was, and what could have been.

 **.**

 **\- - | ~ o O o ~ | - -**

 **.**

It was eight thirty, which mean Jack had been out for two hours. Naturally, Elsa was getting worried - getting some air seemed to have become a walk around the block, which seemed to have in turn become a walk around the district. Having pulled one of the dining chairs next to the window so she could peer out without being easily spotted, with the pistol resting comfortably on her lap, Elsa prayed that in his turbulent emotional state Jack had remembered to utilise everything he knew to stay in the wind. The last thing she wanted, after the heavy and necessary conversation was for him to forget to avoid security cameras and alert Westergard to his presence.

The voice of a little girl talking to someone drifted in through the window; that was nothing new, as Elsa had been listening to the girl sing a lullaby to her dolls as she sat just outside of the motel room next door to the left - or, at least, her parents' room - for the past half an hour. In between lullabies, the girl would have a rather engaging conversation with her dolls about all and sundry, and resume singing once more, alternating between the two.

It came as a massive relief though, when a deeper, masculine voice joined in the conversation. Her heart in her mouth, Elsa stiffened in her seat and peered out of the window, instantly recognising the voice as Jack's - he was sat cross-legged opposite the young girl, possibly joining in the tea party - his hood over his head.

And he was smiling. Oh, after over a week of sadness, torment and worry, he was _smiling._ Elsa felt her lips curl too, remembering how much Jackson loved children and thanking whoever was listening that the love had not been destroyed in the transition, when the memories of 'Jackson' and the memories of 'Jack' merged together. Nosy, and almost desperate to eavesdrop, Elsa opened the window just a crack.

"Cindy likes to ride horses and swim in the lake," the little girl declared. Elsa heard a chuckle from her husband.

"Swimming? Oh, that's cool. I wish I could swim," he said, and then picked up one of her boy dolls, "What about Jake, what does he like?"

"He likes baking and trying on dresses. He's open like that." the girl happily explained, and Jack laughed. "Is that weird?" she asked worriedly, and Jack shook his head.

"Nope," he said, handing Jake back to her, "not at all."

"Okay!" the little girl said brightly, which then turned to nonchalance as she said with the tact only a small child could offer, "you're weird."

"Oh? Why'd you say that?" Jack asked, but there was a humour in his voice that meant her statement was not taken personally.

The little girl shrugged, and rearranged the positioning of Jake and Cindy. Apparently Jake preferred stools, and liked to sit at her right. "Your hands are metal, and your eyes are funny. You're one of those part-robots."

Elsa felt her breath catch in her chest; children were capable of great honesty whilst being completely oblivious to the harm it could cause. In Jack's vulnerable state, there was no telling the damage her nonchalance could have done.

As it turned out, she needn't have worried. "Yeah, I guess I am." Jack agreed.

"What's it like? My mom doesn't like part-robots. She says they're against God." the little girl said as she plucked a third doll and began to brush her hair. There was a moment's pause while Jack presumably considered his answer, stroking his chin with his hand.

"Well, I'm just like you, I guess, it's just that parts of me are made of metal and stuff, rather than skin and bones. Sometimes I have to be careful with how I pick things up, though. Plus, I have to stay away from magnets, otherwise…"

Jack made a _zzzap_ sound, and Jake promptly 'flew' up to become 'stuck' to his outstretched hand. Elsa knew for a fact that augmented limbs were not magnetic, but it was enough to make the girl laugh - a sweet, innocent giggle.

"You're funny. You're not like the people Mom talks about. You're not scary at all." the little girl announced.

In that moment, Elsa knew that those words did more for Jack than anything ever would, including anything she could say. For a child to not be scared of him...would go a long way to helping him accept himself. She even heard a crack in his voice when he said "Awww, thank you."

"No problem." the girl said casually, and then added, "I have to go to bed now. Thank you for playing with me!"

"Hey, I liked playing with you," Jack said, smiling as he shifted to kneel on one knee, "and can I tell you something special?"

Elsa watched the little girl nod affirmatively. Jack gently tapped her nose, and said, "Even the smallest minds can change the world. All you need-"

"-to do is believe…" Elsa murmured to herself as she smiled and looked away, letting the words flow as easily as it was to breathe. It was Jackson's phrase, something he would tell all the children in his elementary school classes before they moved on to high school - he hoped if they had the confidence and drive to change the world, then maybe they wouldn't end up joining a gang and inheriting a vastly diminished life expectancy. Hearing that phrase...brought it all back. Helped everything fall into place, and removed all doubt.

The door opened with a click, and Elsa looked up just as Jack filed through, his head bowed but wearing the last remnants of the smile upon his lips...a smile that faltered as soon as he caught her eyes. Of course, his glance at the gun on her lap didn't help, nevertheless the sting of regret was heavy on her heart.

"You've been gone a long time," she commented quietly. Jack looked at her for a moment longer before closing the door behind him and pulling off his hood. Strange how two hours ago she was uncertain, but at that moment she was enchanted by his white hair.

"Yeah, well...I had a lot to think about, once I cooled off," he said in a low voice, then chuckled wearily as he removed his coat and hung it over his chair. "Heh, _cool._ That's funny."

Elsa looked away as her lips twitched into a smile, one that quickly fell when she opened her mouth. "Jack, I-"

He interrupted her. It wasn't sharp or caustic, but a soft interjection. "Hang on," he held up a hand, "I need to say something. After that, I'll listen to whatever you want to say...if you still need to at that point."

The ominous tone to the last remark didn't sit well with her and threw a hint of disquiet in with the emotional chaos, but she remained silent. The painful words and the upheaval was over; it was time for peace and calm. "I, um…I was walking a lot, a whole lot, and I...well...it helped me get things right in my head, you know? I just wanted to say…"

He paused briefly, and held the top of the chair's backrest so he could lean on it. "I get it. I completely understand why...why you've been scared to touch me. I've been so wrapped up in myself, I didn't stop to think about what it was like for _you._ What it must have been like, to lose me one day only to see me four months later after all that time thinking I was dead. Throw in me trying to...you know...kill you...I can't even imagine what you were feeling. I'm sorry...can you forgive me for not thinking?"

Elsa's lips curled a little, a smile of reassurance rather than joy. "There's nothing to forgive," she said.

"That's...t-that's a relief," Jack sighed, scratching his head awkwardly. "I...um...this is the hardest part…"

Elsa's smile fell. What could be harder than that?

"The reason I was so long...was because I stopped by one of my contacts, guy called Aladdin. I helped him out sometime in April, so he owes me a favour. He...um…" he hesitated, his mouth opening and closing as though either bereft of what to say, or knew exactly what to say but didn't _want_ to say it. Elsa watched him closely, watched how he blinked way too often, and how a hand went up to scratch at the nape of his neck. His brow dipped and rose, and when he spoke again it was like he had swallowed broken glass. "He's a forger. He can make passports and I.D.s that can fool even the best TSA agents, he can...he can give you a new identity, a new life. I'm…"

Jack hesitated once more, and Elsa saw behind her suddenly moistening eyes that his Adam's apple shot up and down, presumably to swallow his own sorrow. "I'm toxic, Elsa. I'm dangerous. I'm a magnet for the wrong people, and...being around me...could get you killed. A life on the run is no life; you deserve to be free, and if that means you have to be far away from me...then...then I can live with that, because then I'll know you'll be safe."

He sniffed, and used his right hand to wipe away a tear from his left cheek, before reaching into the pocket of his sweater and pulling out a small piece of paper. Eyeing it, Elsa felt nothing short of agony in her heart; he was trying to do the right thing, or what he _thought_ was the right thing, in the hope of protecting her. Elsa rose from the chair and placed the gun on the table, before taking a few steps towards him. Clasping her hands together, she wrung them anxiously while she eyed the piece of paper as Jack extended it out to her.

"That's his address, he lives downtown. Take the car...he's expecting you." Jack murmured, his eyes on the paper too.

Elsa bit her lip, inhaled a breath and swallowed the lump so as to speak - for she was about to choose her path. "Thank you," she said with as calm a voice as she could muster as she took the address from his outstretched hand, "But...I'm afraid I will be disappointing him." she finished as she tossed it onto the table.

Jack's eyes shot up to hers, and he gave her an incredulous look. "Elsa, what are you saying?"

"The truth, Jack. I'm not going anywhere." she declared, lifting her chin. Jackson could never beat her in an argument or even a debate, and she wasn't about to let him win now. "You once said one of the things you loved about me was my independence and my fierce determination to make my own choices in life. Well I'm making a choice, right now. I'm staying with you, and there is _nothing_ you can say that will change my mind."

Bereft of a reply, Jack could only fall back on his humour, it seemed. Badly timed, too. "I could...I could always sneak out in the middle of the night…" he said blankly.

"Then I would find you, drag you back here," Elsa announced imperiously, "and then you would be sleeping on the sofa for a month. Jack, you know I love you, and that marriage is an equal partnership - but you do _not_ get to make those decisions without my input. I _refuse_ to leave you, not when you need me the most. Do you understand?" she said firmly, and was amazed by the sheer strength pouring from her heart and out of her mouth, the unshakeable conviction in her words. Jack, however, looked like he had been thoroughly scolded.

"However," she continued, and the very word seemed to cause a flash of worry to dance upon Jack's prior blank expression, "I need to apologise too. What you've been through...I can't even begin to imagine. I have no idea how to sympathise with being a genetic experiment from a young age - though it would explain why I could never conceive, despite our many, many, _many_ attempts - nor do I have a clue about how it feels to be who you are right now."

"I was scared; you had changed so much from the Jackson I remember, and I didn't know how to really deal with it. I...I made a promise to you when that snake offered to save you, that no matter what you would look like I would still love you. Being so focused on what I had to do to get you back, I didn't stop to think about what would happen when I _did_...and I broke that promise every day for the past seven days. I realised two hours ago, that I could have overcome my own fears by helping you defeat yours. You needed me and I failed you, so I am truly sorry, and I promise you that I will be there for you from now on, no exceptions." she finished determinedly, but unable to prevent the cracks in her voice.

Her speech hang heavy in the air between them, with Elsa having no more to say and Jack's mouth wide open with nothing he _could_ say. His expression of bewildered, stunned disbelief was enough to show that her words had been taken on board, assimilated, and accepted. "Elsa…" he croaked, and stepped forward.

She did not recoil, but she held up a hand, looking most intently at the pocket of his sweater. "First, I need you to do something for me," she said, and breathed a small sigh of relief when his reply was a hurried " _anything!"_

"Take off your sweater and shirt." she quietly commanded. Jack's hands fell at his sides, and his entire posture deflated as he whispered his reluctance. Elsa expected it, so she made sure that there was nowhere he could look but deep into her eyes, and said "Please."

Jack hesitated once more, severely self-conscious about his body, and it wasn't until Elsa smiled her most reassuring smile and soothed "...it's okay…" that he eventually relented, crossed his arms to grip the bottom of his sweater, and pulled both garments off in one go.

Elsa's breath caught at the sight. Aside from the seven or so circular grey sockets in his upper chest with three that sat near his collarbone and the remaining four tracing a line across his upper ribcage ostensibly connecting his arms to each other under the skin, his chest and abdomen didn't look far off that of a normal human's...if a lot more toned. He stood silently and patiently, and with a slow and delicate movement, completely enraptured by the sight, Elsa's hands rose as she stepped forward. The air between them was filled with surging electricity; feathering her fingers apart, she gently closed the distance until, with a gasp escaping her lips along with the tensing of his abdomen and his sharp drawing of breath, her fingertips found him.

His skin was warm under her fingertips. Smooth, like she always remembered, but a slight toughness to it above that of a toned body. Her hands parted to either side of his abdomen, keeping her thumbs on his abdominal muscles while her fingers stroked up the sides, where skin met the metal spreading from his spine. The panels too were warm, ostensibly from Jack's body heat, and there was a smoothness to them that enabled her fingertips to glide over the surface. Her eyes took in every inch of his body, not intending to miss a single second's worth of memory.

Her hands slowly moved back to his chest where his rib cage began, feathering themselves apart as they stroked up his skin. She felt his chest slowly rise and fall, thankful that he was calm and accepting of her intent, and paused for a few moments while she enjoyed the simple sensation of his breathing.

Eventually she continued on; stroking along his collarbone _including_ the grey sockets and the skin that stretched to meet them, her hands descended his arms. The surface was cool unlike the panels on his sides, but possessed equal smoothness. The shape dipped and rose as though mimicking a human arm; she could feel what would be relaxed biceps and contracted triceps. Lingering briefly on the elbow as she remembered what happened in the rain, her hands then traced along his forearms down to his hands, and she then entwined her fingers with his for a few moments. Sure, they weren't organic...but they were still _his_ hands.

She then moved back up his arms, stroked over the metal of his shoulders on the way to his neck. Feathering her fingers along the neck plates, she felt where metal became skin once more, along the roughness of his slight stubble, all the while losing herself in his ice blue eyes. She saw how the pupils of his implants grew and shrank, how the little arcs moved left and right in response like a camera zoom. Stroking the side of his face, she smiled when her fingers buried themselves in his hair - it still felt like she thought it would. The perfect hybrid of man and machine...perfect to her, at least. A tear slipped from her eyes as her hands stroked back down to cup both sides of his jaw, and she took a few moments to bask in the eye contact, to revel in the sensations she had experienced after being unable to for what felt like an eternity. To be able to touch him again was...rewarding, and judging by the racing of her heart, worth every second.

Her thumbs stroked his eyebrows as she swallowed, and then said in the quietest voice, "You're as perfect as the day I lost you."

Whatever dam he had erected to hold back his emotions broke in that instant, as the wetness in his lower eyelids became too much to bear, causing the tears to fall unfettered. His lips parted as his breath came in ragged gasps, he whispered, "I love you."

Her response? Obvious. "And I love you. No matter what."

A wide smile curled Jack's lips, with one side higher than the other as per usual, and as though it was as necessary as oxygen, he leaned down as she stood up on her tiptoes so their lips could meet in a loving, gentle kiss. Mouths moving slowly as one, she closed her eyes and lost herself in the moment, feeling the pain disappear from her heart and be replaced with joy.

Cybernetic, human, it didn't matter. Jack was still her husband, her love, and as he wrapped his arms around her back while she wrapped hers around his head to deepen the kiss, safe in the knowledge that he would never hurt her, she knew for sure that from the moment she saw him in the clinic to ten minutes ago, it was all worth it.

And as an hour passed, with the weariness of such an emotional day and the physical tiredness heavy in her limbs, Elsa suggested they retire to bed. Dressed in a plain white vest and baby blue pants, with Jack electing for black pants only, she snuggled close and rested her head on his chest, with her arm wrapped possessively over his abdomen, and his right arm draped protectively over her.

"I've been meaning to ask...but…" she murmured, drawing her hand back to trace circles around his navel. He shivered, the skin instantly tautening under her touch. Smiling, she chuckled inwardly at how that particular reaction had not changed.

"But...what?" he prompted her.

"...but...I don't...I don't quite know how to...I know it's all still very raw for you, and I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable…it's okay if you don't want to talk about it..." she rambled.

"Elsa, honey, just ask the question." he prompted her again, squeezing her slightly as though silently encouraging her. "I'm a big boy with swords in my arms, I can take it."

She hesitated, pondering the question, wondering how to broach the topic that had been bugging her for days. She knew everything was still so raw for him, that he was dealing with things no ordinary human would normally encounter. On the other hand, the concept that talking about things helps was tried and tested...but she wondered if that still applied to someone who went to sleep human and woke up a cyborg.

"What was it like, you know, when you weren't...you?" she asked in quite possibly the most roundabout way possible, and grimaced at her lack of directness.

"You mean the time between when I woke up and the lake?" he said calmly, though she could still pick out the cracks in his voice. She nodded slowly against his chest.

"It was...it was like a bad dream. I can remember...everything. What I did, who I did it to...but it's like those memories aren't mine. Like someone else implanted them. I can't remember anything after the shop and before the lake as _me,_ but everything as...Frost. It's...unnerving." he explained, pausing several times to find the words.

"All I really know is that if it wasn't for you doing what you did, both in Westergard Industries and at the lake...I owe you. Thank you for saving my life…" he murmured, kissing her forehead.

She smiled widely, enjoying the blossom of warmth in her chest and feeling it spread to strengthen and comfort her entire being - he actually sounded grateful. No longer dejected or borderline suicidal, but grateful. It might be permanent, it might be temporary...she would take what she could get. "It was worth it." she mumbled, and as she felt him gently tighten his embrace, her eyelids began to sink.

It didn't take long for her to drift off into the welcoming embrace of sleep.

 **.**

 **\- - | ~ o O o ~ | - -**

 **.**


	5. Daedalus

**.**

" **Deus Ex: Revenant"**

 **Part 5 of 6**

 **.**

 **.**

 **\- - | ~ o O o ~ | - -**

" _ **Daedalus"**_

 **\- - | ~ o O o ~ | - -**

 **.**

 **.**

 _(July 6th, 2027)_

There was a new rule imposed the morning after: no usage of the Wraith Field Cloaking System for pranking - Elsa thought her husband was a prankster before, but functional invisibility was taking it a bit too far.

It happened that morning; Elsa had just stepped out of a gloriously warm and refreshing shower that had reinvigorated and relaxed her, and was in the middle of drying her hair when she heard the motel door open and close. Listening out for Jack's voice, the silence that was returned was disconcerting and unsurprisingly sent a flash of fear up her spine. Having retrieved the pistol from the bathroom sink, she quickly slipped into a dressing gown and stealthily exited the bathroom with her pistol raised.

No-one had been in the motel room...except for Jack, who had snuck into the corner to the right of the bathroom. With Elsa focused on whoever might have entered the room her back was to that corner, so all Jack had needed to do was to sneak up behind her, decloak, and shout " _boo!"_

It came as no surprise that Elsa shrieked and jumped out of her skin...and it was a miracle that the gun didn't go off. It also came as no surprise that Jack's raucous laughter was swiftly silenced by a slap to the side of his head, a reprimanding finger and a threat that if he ever utilised the cloak to do that again, she would withhold sex for the foreseeable future.

It _definitely_ came as no surprise that Jack's agreement was instantaneous.

What Elsa didn't tell him at that point, mostly so as to not encourage him, was that once she had calmed down from the fright of her life and thoroughly scolded him for his irresponsibility, inside she was glad that his mischievous streak had not been dimmed in the slightest.

His punishment was a run to the best bakery in the state to buy her favourite pancakes, maple syrup, blueberries, bananas and orange juice, with _proper_ coffee from Oaken's. Although, she didn't know if it was a punishment for her or for him; the trip was an hour and a half _without_ playing dodge-the-camera, and she was _starving._

Ignoring the rumbling of her stomach, Elsa tried to focus on the news reports, particularly keeping an eye out for anything pertaining to them. It was also a good indicator of if Jack had caught heat; Eliza Cassan was impossibly quick on the draw when it came to breaking news, to the point that Elsa wondered two things: one, if she was an A.I.; two, if she actually engineered the big stories herself.

However, thirty minutes of nothing but news of riots in Detroit, complaints against Tai Yong Medical, warning of a potential drop in Tokyo land prices and the U.S.A.F's final preparations for their space junk cleanup program SpaceNet, and no reports of a white-haired, heavily augmented man on the loose in Arendelle City meant she could breathe easy for a while.

Especially when the door opened and Jack walked in, not before announcing his presence.

"Hey," he greeted, flashing a smile that sent her heart a-flutter. Holding a large paper bag, he said lightly, "Breakfast?"

Elsa muted the television and rose from the end of the bed, made her way over to him and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "You were gone for a while," she said in concern, "I thought you'd be a little longer than normal, but not over an hour longer..."

Jack closed the door with a foot, and awkwardly scratched the back of his neck with his free hand. "Yeah, sorry about that. I had...something to do."

Elsa's eyes narrowed. "What?" she asked.

"Um...I'll tell you about it after breakfast. It's nothing bad, I promise, but…" he hesitated, quirking a shy half-smile, "You're grumpy when you're hungry...and I don't think even these fancy augments could save me."

"And don't you forget it," she reminded him with a finger jabbed at his chest. Chuckling, Jack gave her a kiss on her forehead before resting the bag on the table.

 **.**

 **\- - | ~ o O o ~ | - -**

 **.**

As expected, her breakfast of pancakes and blueberries with maple syrup was delicious, and she briefly considered sending Jack out to buy more. It was her favourite breakfast on a Sunday morning, though procuring them used to be a lot less risky, and it wasn't even Sunday. Still, being able to enjoy at least one of her home comforts meant a lot after getting used to the hardships of life on the run.

"So what happens now?" she asked, before slipping her last forkful into her mouth and drowning in the sweet delight. Jack shrugged, his ability to speak impeded by the glass of orange juice at his lips.

"Um," he said after swallowing, "we've got a couple of options. We could go to Sarif Industries, but...there was a running joke in Westergard that Sarif's cybersecurity was so hole-y it should be canonized...pretty risky if our identities came out. I thought we could catch a boat to Hengsha and join Tai Yong Medical…"

Elsa nibbled at her cheek, and a look of uncertainty flitted across her features. "I don't know - Tai Yong has a reputation for inferior augments, and there have been...rumours...of human experimentation. Which they denied, of course."

"Yeah well, you could change that," Jack offered, hacking into his last pancake, "we could get an apartment on the upper level. With your experience and my...skillset, plus our knowledge of Westergard, pretty sure they'd be snapping us up…pretty sure our best bet would be Sarif, especially with the flash drive."

There was an unease to his voice, as though he was selling something he didn't quite believe in, and it wasn't to do with the fact that Tai Yong made Westergard look like angels. Elsa easily picked up on it, and in a shining example of their soulmate status, she knew exactly what he was thinking and _not_ saying. "But we'd still be looking over our shoulders, wouldn't we? If Westergard really wanted us dead, it wouldn't matter if we were here or in China. The only thing that would change about our situation would be where we lived."

"Yep," he said sadly, "got it in one. Only way we'd really be free is if Westergard was suddenly brought down."

Elsa nodded grimly - she had come to the same conclusion while he was out. Which reminded her - "so what was it you wanted to tell me?" she asked pointedly.

Jack looked up mid chew, and there was a flash of fear in his eye. Well, closer to nervousness than anything. Forcing down the mouthful, he nibbled at his lip as he looked away, wincing slightly as though preparing for something. "Um...well...I bought you something." he said apprehensively, and one hand dived under the table to retrieve something wrapped in another, smaller paper bag.

He offered the item to Elsa who took it curiously, glancing between him and the object, and with delicate movements she peeled back the paper to reveal…

"...another burner phone?" she asked with mild incredulity and a raised eyebrow. _That_ was what he was so worried about?

"Check the phone book," he suggested, gesturing to it with his fork. It was only a cheap phone so there was only the options of SMS, Phone Book and Call, but nevertheless Elsa followed his suggestion and opened the digital book, revealing a single number. "Call it," he suggested further.

Narrowing her eyes, Elsa hit the call button and put the phone to her ear glaring suspiciously at him. The call tone rang twice, and almost immediately after the click came a female voice that said " _hello?"_ and Elsa nearly dropping the phone in shock.

"...Anna!?" she breathed.

" _Elsa!"_ her sister squeaked in surprise. Covering her mouth, Elsa gaped with wide eyes at her husband, who gestured with his head toward the door, picked up his breakfast and exited the motel room. Elsa, still stunned, was only peripherally aware of her heart beat and her breathing.

"Oh my God, I never thought I'd hear your voice again!" she whispered.

" _You and me both, big 'sis! What the hell happened? One minute you're off to Westergard Industries, the next minute I hear something about a freaking_ car accident _, you go completely off the grid and won't answer my calls or texts!"_ Anna ranted, the way a mother does when their child goes missing, yet was only at a friend's house without telling anyone.

"I...um...well, I can't really tell you," Elsa said with trepidation. As expected, it was _not_ the answer Anna wanted to hear.

" _Oh don't you dare! You are my sister and I love you, but I am not gonna be the last to know everything! Why can't you tell me?"_ Anna berated her. There were a few times where Elsa nearly held the phone at arm's length.

"It's for your...I'm trying to protect you, Anna. I shouldn't even be talking to you - the reason Jack and I have disappeared could get you killed-"

Anna swiftly cut her off. " _Jack? As in, Jackson? Okay, that's it. Spill."_

And so Elsa did, everything she could tell, at least. She told her about Jack's resurfacing in the clinic, his temporary amnesia that came with the new augmentations, everything up to that point while strategically omitting anything that could put her in danger - the flash drive, Jack's genetic experimentation, the conspiracy to have Jackson shot...it hurt her to essentially lie to her sister, but after several emphatic reminders that if Anna knew any more then she would be put in danger, the topic was set aside. There was a moment, however, when Elsa fought the urge to inform Anna that she was being followed and surveilled, but the voice of reason reminded her that giving her a heads up was a bad idea. Anna was the type of person that would go after the black SUV with a baseball bat, so for the time being, her ignorance was Elsa's bliss.

"Listen...can we talk about something else for a while? Anything, I just...I just want to listen to you talk." Elsa asked, pinching the fabric of her hooded sweater. To be truthful, she was happy to listen to even the most mundane things, like how many times her nephew had to be rescued from sticking fire engines up his nose. After all, she had no idea when she would be able to hear her sister's voice again.

So that was how it went, forty-five minutes of Elsa listening, smiling, and nurturing the warmth of sisterly love in her heart.

 **.**

 **\- - | ~ o O o ~ | - -**

 **.**

Jack came in the motel room shortly after Anna reluctantly ended the call - Henry was teething, so the fact that she had three-quarters of an hour was nothing short of a minor miracle, but all good things must come to an end - and had barely closed the door before Elsa had thrown her arms around him in a grateful, tight hug.

"Woah," he gasped in surprise, "what's that for?"

"You _know_ what it's for," Elsa mumbled into his neck, "you know damn well what it's for. I don't know how you did it, but thank you."

Jack chuckled dryly. "You probably don't want to know, but it was worth it."

Elsa pulled back, but kept her arms around his neck as she stared curiously into his ocular implants and narrowed her eyes. "Well _now_ I do," she pressured.

Sighing, Jack let his hands fall to her hips. "Well...I bought two burner phones, one for you and one for Anna. I remembered that she likes to visit the farmer's market on Thursday mornings, so...while she was busy looking at some carrots, I...bumped into her. Intentionally."

Elsa drew a sharp gasp. "Jack! Do you even know how risky that was, for both you _and_ Anna?" she reprimanded him firmly. Jack winced and ducked his head slightly, but was too slow to avoid the whap to the back of his skull.

"I know!" he protested quickly, "I know. I mean, as soon as I slipped the phone into her bag, I got the heck outta there. Some of the things she was yelling...I just hope Henry doesn't start repeating them. I was trying not to take it personally…anyway, I cloaked when it was safe and stuck around to make sure no-one was going to grab her, then went on to Oaken's. How is she?"

Elsa regarded him carefully for a moment, just in case something _did_ happen and he was trying to hide it...having said that, Jack was absolutely rubbish at hiding things. "She's fine, better now she's heard from me. I hated having to hide things from her, we had no secrets when we were children, but she seemed to accept it. She even agreed to destroy the phone." she explained.

Jack exhaled quietly and nodded. "I'm glad you got to talk to her - so, what's the plan, my queen?" he cooed, pecking her on the nose. Chuckling at her new nickname, Elsa unlinked her arms and made her way to her nightstand, where she retrieved the flash drive.

"I think we should go to Sarif Industries and tell them what we know - I'm sure they would be all over you for security, and I could work in their labs. I would rather work for him than Zhao Yun Ru; the worst thing Sarif is guilty of is _really_ wanting augmentation to be commonplace...and he's honest about it." Elsa said as she made her way to the coat hanger next to the door and unhooked her cap.

"With luck," she said as she swept her platinum blonde hair into a ponytail, and then slipped the cap from its hanging place on her wrist to perch it on her head, "it won't be too long before we can go somewhere without having to circle the place three times first."

She looked up at Jack, who was gazing right back at her with a faraway look and an enchanted smile upon his face. Feeling a self-conscious heat light up her cheeks, she looked away while the left side of her lips curled shyly. "What?" she murmured.

Jack blinked as though the world was coming back to him, and for a moment he looked less like the thirty-four year old, man-machine hybrid and more like the twenty-one year old she fell in love with in college from the way he suddenly became very bashful and embarrassed, with flushed cheeks and inarticulate sentences. "I...um...well, I...was just thinking...you...even though you're incognito with a hooded sweater and leggings...you still look so, um, beautiful…"

The man who could punch through walls, who had blades in his wrists and who could literally turn invisible...reduced to a stammering mess. Elsa would have teased him for it had she not been blushing so fiercely. "Welp, time to go," she mumbled, "or I'm probably going to swoon. By the way, can we stop off at Toothiana's office?"

Jack looked puzzled by her request. "Your lawyer? Why?"

"There's something I have to give to her first," Elsa explained as she pulled the hood over her cap and opened the door, "sort of an insurance policy."

 **.**

 **\- - | ~ o O o ~ | - -**

 **.**

The definition of Murphy's Law is the idea that anything that can go wrong, will. What it _fails_ to mention is that it will happen at the worst possible time...and depending on how unlucky you are, _all_ of the time.

The idea was that Jack and Elsa would go on a tour of the places in the city that were milestones of their relationship, as a sort of ' _kiss goodbye'_ to the city that had been host to every single moment they had together, the city that had nurtured them and supported them. For the most part, it had been successful; they spent some time at the lake while hidden safely in a copse near the shore, swung by the college where they first met...even stopped a stone's throw from the home of the late Agdar and Idun Whitethorne, where Jackson had committed a rather painful faux pas by bringing chocolate brownies. Ordinarily that would have been a nice gesture had Idun not been a vegan - luckily she saw the humour in it, not least because Jackson became a red-faced, stuttering, apologetic mess, and it became a running joke in the household. Thanks to the anonymity of a hood, baseball cap and sunglasses plus keeping their faces obscured from any and all cameras, she and her husband had managed to visit most of the places - though the coffee shop in the mall where they had their first date was far too risky.

Jack's elementary school was tricky, though...but not because of anonymity concerns. Parked a short distance away from the main doors, Jack had sat in silence while he stared at the school, lost in thought and memory. Elsa tried to imagine what he was thinking, but sometimes it was obvious; every so often she would hear the soft mechanical whir of a limb being moved, and glance over to find him frowning at the titanium alloy hands. It didn't take a augmentation procedure specialist to know where his head was at.

By and large, though, they were happy. Being able to stop by those places brought a nostalgic joy that both uplifted them and helped them forget for a blissful while that, aside from the camera-dodging, they were hiding from Westergard Industries' facial recognition programs. Hell, they might even get out of the city unfettered.

But then Murphy's Law had decided to rear its ugly head in the form of massive traffic congestion in the least-used road out of town - the one they were intending to use so they could avoid the main highway. Jack called it ' _getting to Detroit via California'_ , exaggerating as usual. Even the city's monorail that spread throughout the city was severely delayed.

That was when they learned of _why_ the main highway had been closed off - Purity First had struck again, and this time they had gone all in.

" _Breaking news from Arendelle this evening, as Purity First terrorists have taken control of a Neuropozyne warehouse located near the city limits just off the main highway. The police have confirmed that hostages have been taken, but refused to comment on the rumours of a bomb."_

Elsa stared incredulously at the thin glass sheet that had extended from the middle of the dashboard, also known as the in-car television system - Jack had become irritatingly bored and started fidgeting while stuck in the congestion, so an exasperated Elsa had activated the miniature television so he could distract himself. Eliza Cassan's announcement had stilled her breath; she knew Purity First were tenacious and foolhardy, but taking over a Neuropozyne warehouse?

"My God…" she breathed. Jack shot her a look. "There's already a shortage of Neuropozyne in the city - people are having to take fortnightly doses instead of weekly but...if they destroy the stockpile, it's going to be catastrophic! It'll take _weeks_ to replenish the stock, and by then it'll be too late - we're looking at thousands, maybe tens of thousand of augment rejection cases…"

"Well, that's not good." Jack remarked dryly.

"No," Elsa murmured as she slowly shook her head, her eyes fixed upon the aerial picture of the warehouse to the right of Eliza's image, "no it isn't."

"Now we know _that,_ " Jack continued with an almost theatrical air, "there's no _possible_ way we could leave the city. I mean, it'd be _awful_ if we quietly left just before arms started falling off."

Elsa scowled, shooting him a stern look. "Are you using a CASIE augment on me? You had better not be."

"Would I do such a thing?" he gasped, covering his heart in mock-offense, but all Elsa needed to do was raise a single eyebrow to make him roll his eyes and amend, "No, I'm not - and for the record I don't have one. I've been married to you for over ten years, Elsa. I know you, I know how you think - and right now you think that if we left now, you'd be regretting not doing something for the rest of your life."

Elsa flushed - he was right on the money. As a medical professional she was committed to the art of healing. Considering many of the augmented men and women in the city were wearing prostheses or chips that she had either installed, organised or supervised, she felt an obligation to their aftercare...including the capture of a Neuropozyne warehouse by terrorists.

She must have been looking at Jack in a certain way that she was unaware of, because the next thing she knew he was leaning over the middle and softly kissing her blushing cheek before saying, "Like I said, I know how you think." and relaxing back onto his seat.

"You know that this will definitely put us on Westergard's radar, right? It'll be a _lot_ harder for us to leave." she pointed out - but Jack casually shrugged, staring off into the sky.

"Pfft," he scoffed, "maybe it'll be fun. Besides, it's bad manners to leave," he paused to gaze at her through the sides of his eyes, " _without saying goodbye."_

 **.**

 **\- - | ~ o O o ~ | - -**

 **.**

The police were quick, no doubt about that.

No sooner had Elsa taken a left into the asphalt road leading to the warehouse than a fully armoured and armed Rapid Response Officer, replete with the customary practically-opaque helmet had strode up to and stopped their car, yelling something they couldn't make out whilst belligerently gesturing for them to turn around. Jack had wordlessly gotten out of the car and exchanged several words with the officer, who was immovable and borderline aggressive up until Jack directed his attention the Westergard Industries Security logo on the left part of his neck plate. A few seconds later, Jack got back in and said "He recognises me from the LIMB clinic. They're allowing us in."

Five minutes after that, she pulled up near the forward command post, which was little more than a black gazebo with three portable computers, a communications interface and a table with the warehouse's blueprints spread across it - much to the surprise of the cop in charge, who was prior to that point discussing something with his comrades. Entry points, probably.

"Who's the bloody idiot that let you two in here?" he practically shouted in a thick Australian accent before Elsa had even set one foot out of the car, abandoning the blueprints and marching towards them. Initially, her hackles were raised at this man's disrespectful tone and behaviour, but then she remembered that they were technically civilians and thus trespassing.

And of course, Jack picked the worst time to crack a joke.

"Guy at the bottom of the road said this was the Cyborgs Anonymous, Guns and Cheesecake festival - I am so sorry, he must have gave me the wrong directions…" he feigned blank surprise. Elsa subsequently facepalmed hard enough that it actually stung. "Jack…" she groaned.

"Oh, do we have a comedian?" the cop said in loud, sarcastic surprise, "Great! You know what I like to do to comedians, mate? Arrest them."

He motioned behind him for two of his fellow officers to put Elsa and Jack in handcuffs, and for a second she debated slapping the back of Jack's head for being so irresponsible. Thankfully, he got the message without spousal reprimanding. "Woah woah woah," he protested, putting his hands up in surrender, "no need for that! My name's Jack Frost, Westergard Industries Security specialist." He pointed to the logo on his neck again. "We just came to see if we could help."

"Uh-huh," said the cop, unimpressed, jerking his eyes to Elsa, "and who is the one that's patently the more mature of you two?"

"I...Idina." Elsa answered, a little flustered at being put on the spot surrounded by police, "my name is Idina."

"She's my handler." Jack announced proudly.

The rather grumpy cop eyed both of them suspiciously, jutting his jaw out from left to right before making up his mind. "You're the aug Westergard sent into the LIMB clinic a few weeks ago, aren't you?"

Elsa felt a flash of worry - she had hoped that they would be relatively unknown in this situation, but Jack's reputation preceded him when it came to tactical law enforcement, it seemed. Unfortunately, they were not in a position to lie about it, especially surrounded by said law enforcement. Jack seemed to be thinking the same thing when he soon said, "Yeah."

The cop eyed him thoughtfully, folding his arms together as he studied Jack with deep scrutiny. Elsa's eyes danced between her husband and the abrasive man, along with the three men stood just behind him. However, she nearly sighed in relief when the man relented, "Alright. Name's Aster. Maybe you can help."

He turned and gestured for them to follow, and just before setting off Jack shot Elsa a look and mouthed " _Idina?",_ to which Elsa responded with a " _I don't freaking know!"_ shrug.

"Right," Aster clapped his hands together once they took their places by the table. Elsa looked over the blueprints; there was only really one point of entry and that was through the huge front double doors. "there are at least twenty hostiles in there, probably more, with about eight hostages. Some got away before Purity First attacked, so that's how we know - problem is that the hostages are in an unknown location, and there's every chance the mooks'll shoot 'em before we even get through the door."

"Okay," Jack nodded, "but what about the bomb?"

Aster scowled and folded his arms. Almost growling, he said, "Who said there was a bomb?"

"Um," Elsa answered, raising a finger and wincing slightly to appear meek, "Eliza Cassan did?"

Aster gaped, and then promptly looked like he was going to explode. "How the fuck did she-" he hissed angrily, throwing his hands into the air. "You know what? Never mind. Yes, there's a bomb. No, we don't know where it is. We've tried using infra-red but something in there is throwing it off, might be what the walls are made of. At the moment, it's mostly guesswork, so you see my problem?"

"It'll probably be in the back near the Neuropozyne stash." Jack mused. Glancing at the side of his face, Elsa noticed how all trace of humour had gone, leaving behind a man who was focused on the task at hand, and planning his every move. She wondered how many times he had to do that over the four months she thought he was dead, and whether he did that for the clinic.

"So," Aster asked, dripping with such sarcasm that it threatened to burn through the table, "what does our esteemed guest think we should do?"

"Easy." Jack shrugged like it was no big thing. "I go in alone."

Elsa gaped, stunned, while Aster looked like he had the biggest " _wait, what?!"_ expression on his face.

"You want to do _what?"_ she hissed.

Jack explained further, with a tone that suggested he knew he was right. "I go in alone. Think about it - soon as they see you guys move in, they'll start shooting hostages and probably set off the bomb. Whereas I have a cloak, so they'll never see me coming. I'm the only one who can do it."

 **.**

 **\- - | ~ o O o ~ | - -**

 **.**

"What the _hell_ do you think you're doing?" Elsa hissed angrily at Jack, following him so closely that she was practically riding piggyback despite his long strides.

Having agreed, Aster directed Jack to the supply van a hundred yards away that contained whatever he needed to function - specifically a bullet proof vest. Jack may have been augmented, but a bullet would still kill him - which was _exactly_ why Elsa was furious.

"The only thing that can be done, Elsa." he stated cryptically.

"Just...seriously…" she sputtered, throwing her hands in the air as they closed in on the van, "do you even _know_ how dangerous it is?"

"I know exactly how dangerous it is, Elsa." Jack answered calmly. _Too_ calmly.

"Do you?!" she shouted at the back of his head as he unhooked a vest from the inside of the van's rear door and proceeded to remove his hooded sweater, "Do you have _any_ idea how that makes me feel? I lost you four months ago, it tore me up inside! I just got you back, _my Jack, my husband,_ and now you want to go in there alone," she gestured toward the warehouse behind them, "without backup! Why?! Why do _you_ have to do this?"

She evidently touched a nerve, because Jack slammed the vest down onto the van's corrugated steel floor and whirled around with an expression of pained fury on his pale face, his artificial eyes wide with anger as he yelled, " _Because I never asked for this!"_ while he held his mechanical arms wide.

Elsa felt like she had been slapped in the face. Bereft of words but with her mouth parted, she stared with hurt shock at him. There was only one thing that ' _this'_ referred to - his augmentations. She honestly believed that they had addressed the topic, but the way his breathing was deep but fast told her that she was naive. The guilt had been there ever since they moved into the motel, and remained with her even after the talk. She bit her lip hard enough that she almost drew blood, and stared, wounded, into his eyes.

Jack, whose breathing had calmed down, sensed that he had let the cat out of the bag, so with a resigned sigh, he sat on the edge of the van's open doorframe and added, "I never asked to be augmented. I never consented to it. I stepped out of the florists, and the next thing I know I'm waking up in a pure white room on a steel gurney, with arms and legs that aren't even mine, and no memory of who I was. I never wanted to be this man-machine hybrid thing...and become Hans' personal wetworks asset and janitor. What they did to me, Elsa...they butchered me, violated me - and you consented to it."

Elsa held her breath, forcing down her pain with a swallow. There was no way in hell she was going to show tears in front of all those cops nearby - but hearing him say it out loud felt like he was reaching into her chest, pulling out her heart and tearing it to pieces in front of her eyes.

"I wanted to save you," she choked, forcing herself to look away lest she crumble, "I loved you and...I didn't want you to die...there was a chance you could be saved and-"

"...Elsa…" he said gently.

"I...I took it...oh God, I let him do that to you...I'm so sorry, Jack! Please, forgive me for letting him do that to you…" she rambled in a broken, cracking voice of shattered glass, praying that he couldn't see her tears.

"Elsa, look at me." he asked softly. Asked, not commanded. Just asked, and that was the beauty of it. Jack never asserted control in the relationship, not even in arguments. They were truly equals. Her eyes reluctantly moved up his black tank top and met his gaze - she could no longer hide her pain from him.

"I don't blame you, not one bit. You agreed to the procedure because you wanted to save my life, and I will _always_ be grateful to you for giving me a second chance - and you need to remember that you're as much a victim of this as I am. Hans is a sociopath, he uses people, treats them like tools. He took advantage of your grief, your love for me to get what he wanted - and even if you refused, he would have taken me anyway. So I don't need to forgive you...but you need to forgive _yourself._ " he explained, and Elsa heard the mechanical whir of his arm as his thumb stroked a tear away.

"...then why...why did you say…" she mumbled, frowning as she automatically leaned into his cold touch.

"Because you didn't save me until that night at the park. For four months I was not in control of my own body - Hans made me do horrible things. I _killed_ people, Elsa, there are kids that will grow up without a father thanks to me. I was not the man you married, but a twisted, bastardized version that killed over a dozen people right before your eyes, that even tried to kill _you._ I'm going to have to live with that." Jack said quietly but pleadingly, his eyes shining as though her understanding meant everything to him.

Elsa felt herself be numbly pulled towards him, so that she stood between his parted legs, and his other hand reached up to cup her face. "For once, I want to use my augments to do the right thing - and thanks to you, I have a chance to do that, so I can look at myself without hating what I see. That's why I'm going." he said softly.

She took one of his hands and kissed the palm. The metal felt smooth and cold against her lips, and though she was subconsciously expecting warm skin rather than titanium alloy, it still made her heart flutter since it was still Jack - mechanical or not. The stubbornness was still him too, and sometimes she knew she had no choice but to give in. "I understand," she murmured, "I know it's something you need to do. So...even though it scares me, I won't stop you going in there."

A gentle smile curled Jack's lips as he leaned over, and Elsa felt a warm and tender kiss on her forehead. "Thank you," he whispered against her skin, and then turned to pick up the forgotten vest. It was then that Elsa reached up to the inside of the opened door and unhooked another, and as she pulled it over her head and proceeded to feed the straps through the harnesses on its side, Jack turned back.

"Elsa...what are you doing?" he asked.

"I said you could go," she answered matter-of-factly as she yanked the straps as tight as comfortably possible. "I didn't say anything about you _going alone_."

"What?" Jack shot her a bemused look, before sighing in exasperation. "Elsa, this is too dangerous - I can't risk you-" he protested. Elsa wasn't having any of it, and held up a hand.

"Jack?" she stopped him, "Don't, okay? I'm coming with you."

Aster seemed to have impeccable timing, as he chose that moment to draw up to them."You two about ready or...oooookay, am I interrupting something?" he said as he held up his hands in surrender.

"No," Elsa answered abruptly, and turned back to her husband, "Jack - I didn't fight to get you back just for you to get yourself killed in there on some mission to find yourself. If you need to do this, then that's fine, but I'm coming with you to make _damn_ sure you come back alive," she hissed menacingly, and jabbed a finger into his chest, "and there's nothing you can say to stop me."

Truth be told, Elsa was scared of the prospect of going into a warehouse full of armed Purity First terrorists, but she was even more scared of losing Jack again. Glaring up at her husband, she folded her arms and silently prayed that the fear was not reflected in her eyes.

"You sure you don't wanna sit this one out, mate?" Aster asked - Elsa could easily hear the mocking humour in his voice, "I've half a mind to send _her_ instead - it's pretty clear who wears the trousers in your marriage."

Elsa shot him a surprised look, wondering how he correctly guessed the relationship between her and Jack - but then felt a small surge of stupidity when she remembered Aster was a cop, and it wouldn't look good on his resumé if he wasn't able to suss it out.

"Joking aside though - you even have any firearms experience, or know what to do?" Aster suddenly took on a serious tone as he scrutinised her closely.

"I'm his security handler. What do you think?" she snapped with an air of deep snark, still conscious of the worried and frustrated glare Jack was giving her. Aster's hands shot up in surrender while his head humbly dipped.

"You know what? I'm gonna go over here, with the assault rifles, grenades and live breaching charges," he gestured with his left hand towards a nearby van, "helluva lot safer than here."

Jack waited, watching the SWAT leader move out of earshot before commenting, "Still can't believe Astrid took the widow of a shooting victim to a _firing range._ " he deadpanned. Elsa's lips quirked, and she shrugged in response.

"She eventually worked it out two days later and was most apologetic about it - I've never seen so many chocolate brownies in my life - but it did teach me how to shoot. Add that to the mandatory _how-to-escape-from-clinic-attack_ training sessions - some help _they_ were - after the Sarif Industries incident…"

Closing her eyes, she sighed in part-exasperation, part self-reproach - she was straying too far from the topic. "Jack," she began, and turned her gaze towards him so she could convey exactly what she meant to, "I know you're just trying to protect me, but I want to help, so I'm going in there whether you like it or not."

Jack exhaled a long, _long_ resigned breath through his nose, and though Elsa did blush out of discomfort she did not avert her eyes, no matter _how_ worried Jack looked. "I'm not going to be able to talk you out of this, am I?" he asked a silly question, answered by a simple shake of Elsa's head. "Fine," he groaned, then seemed to take out his frustration on her vest straps as he checked their tightness, "but there's a condition."

"Jack-" she sighed.

"No," he said firmly, crossing his arms, "don't you ' _Jack'_ me after what you're pulling. The condition is that you're not going to kill anyone - stun gun only. Not being able to stop you is bad enough, but I will walk through hell before I let you take anyone's life. You don't need that on your conscience."

Elsa found that the condition was perfectly agreeable; despite wielding one in the motel, she disliked guns in all forms - and whether it was a byproduct of her career, she was strongly averse to ending someone's life. Granted, the motel and witnessing the massacre at the clinic did not lend themselves to that, but they were instances of survival more than anything else. "I think I can live with that," she smiled.

"Good," Jack said as he pushed himself off the cargo hold edge, "when we're in there, you're gonna do what I say, no exceptions. I say duck," he added as he twisted round and picked up his vest, "you duck. Okay?"

Jack was in the process of slipping the vest over his head when Elsa rested her hands upon his - it still boggled her how augments could ' _feel'_ through metal - making him instantly pause and look up. Elsa smiled and blinked in a silent request to take the vest from him. "Okay, Jack," she soothed as she fed the straps through their sockets and tightened them, "you don't need to worry about me." she finished as she set about securing the other side.

"But I do," Jack softly countered, "you're my wife, and I love you. Worrying about your well-being comes with the territory."

Elsa flushed lightly. Casting him a look out of the corner of her eye, her smile became a knowing yet playful smirk as she yanked the last strap. "Say that part again," she murmured, barely audible over the police hubbub.

Jack tilted his head. "...comes with the…" he began slowly.

"No," Elsa languidly shook her head just an inch as she leaned closer to him, "before that part."

"You're my wife, and I love you?" he repeated, a crooked smile carving its way across his face as his eyes danced down to her lips and back up again.

"That's never getting old," Elsa whispered, before closing the distance and capturing his lips in a sweet, tender kiss. She ran her fingers through his hair and closed her eyes to savour the sensations coursing through her mouth all the way to her heart. It felt like her little slice of heaven despite the activity surrounding them and the danger ahead, and if it was the calm before the storm then she was going to make damn sure to take advantage of it.

Their lips and jaws moved in perfect, romantic unison, with contented moans exchanged between them. She felt his hands wrap themselves around her waist and pull her close - in a moment of clarity amongst the fuzz in her mind, she cursed the two vests preventing her body from pressing against his. Releasing the kiss just enough to brush her lips against his, she whispered, "How is it that ten years on, you can still make me feel like a lovestruck schoolgirl?"

Jack smirked against her lips. "Must be my boyish charm, roguish good looks and winning smile."

Elsa rolled her eyes and sighed behind her exasperated smile. "Let's not get carried away, shall we? Clearly your ego did not need augmenting."

"That's not the _only_ thing that didn't need augmenting." Jack said in a low and coy voice - Elsa mentally cursed him for being able to embarrass her and turn her on a little at the same time. Taking advantage of how her hand was in prime position for a reprimanding slap to the back of his head, she administered said slap much to his yelping surprise.

"Hostage situation now," she gently chided him, though not without a lightly flushed smirk, "naughty stuff later. So, where's my stun gun and how do I use it?" She drew her arms away and rested them on her hips. Jack narrowed one eye, and she heard a low hum from his throat as his arms tightened around her waist. Sensing his reluctance, Elsa deployed her classic ' _don't even think about it'_ expression by dipping her head and frowning through her eyebrows, with her still-tingling lips thinned into a line to garnish.

Jack loudly and exaggeratedly sighed his defeat. "Alright!" he threw his hands up, "fine."

He then set about explaining the _Buzzkill Threat Negation Device,_ which looked like a fat, high-tech hand exercise grip when not used, and a strangely shaped black and white gun when flicked open. It seemed simple enough to use; point and squeeze the long trigger bar for a nice twenty thousand volts to give someone a bad hair day, keep the bar squeezed so you can pull out the dart, and slide another one in before releasing the trigger to re-arm it.

With it in her hand, Elsa felt the familiar sensation of power that she felt when Astrid took her to the firing range - albeit in that instance it was swamped with memories of Jackson in the hospital bed. Even though it was a non-lethal weapon, it was still able to remove someone from a battle quickly and effectively, and she wondered if Purity First, the police, or those with augmentations felt that similar sensation of superiority. Maybe that was what it was all about - mechanical and technological augmentations being the next step in human evolution, where it was mankind itself and _not_ nature that instigated it. Where humans could run faster than before, were stronger than before, capable of astonishing feats that an ordinary human could never hope to achieve. A future where man and machine were one, and not just being able to interface directly with software, brain to hard drive. A future embodied in her husband, a genetic experiment specifically designed to bring it about.

Humanity could be its own God, instigating its own evolution.

Maybe Purity First and their far more peaceful cousins Humanity Front weren't far off the mark.

"Ready to go?" Jack asked, and the worry in his voice was still detectable as he passed over a few more darts. Stirred from her thoughts, Elsa briefly eyed his mechanical arms, sleek and attractive in their silver-grey glory, capable of punching through walls, snapping necks and impaling people...and remembered how softly they touched her, how they treated her like precious glass. Maybe they were both right; humans shouldn't play God, but augments weren't the devil's work.

After all, there were war veterans, amputees, people like Mr Haddock that had been given a new lease of life they would never have had if it wasn't for augmentations. The blind could see, the deaf could hear, the lame could walk. Technology _did_ help them.

The million dollar question as she glanced at her husband, a man with far more augmentations than were necessary to save his life was simple: how far should humanity go?

"Yes," she answered softly as she took the ammunition from him and pocketed it, "I'm ready."

 **.**

 **\- - | ~ o O o ~ | - -**

 **.**


	6. Icarus

**A/N: For extra feels** " _ **Icarus",**_ **from the Deus Ex: Human Revolution soundtrack by Michael McCann.**

" **Deus Ex: Revenant"**

 **Part 6 of 6**

 **.**

 **.**

 **\- - | ~ o O o ~ | - -**

" _ **Icarus"**_

 **\- - | ~ o O o ~ | - -**

 **.**

 **.**

 _(July 6th, 2027)_

The plan seemed simple enough; Elsa would accompany Jack into the warehouse, whereby they would locate and free the hostages, and she would get them out while Jack neutralized the remaining hostiles as quickly and quietly as possible. Once that particular objective was achieved, then Jack would utilise his ocular implants and acquired skills to deactivate the bomb, or at least tell them how far to pull back.

Of course, there was an old saying - " _No plan survives contact with the enemy"_ \- but it wasn't _that_ which gave Elsa an unwelcome sense of unease, the sensation of something worrisome settling in the pit of her stomach while she sat against the hood of one of the police cruisers closest to the warehouse, staring unwaveringly at its doors, breathing in the crisp, slightly grassy air with metronomic regularity.

"Elsa, you okay?"

Apparently it was so distracting that she had zoned out, and right before they were about to sprint to the warehouse, no less. Blinking, the world came back to Elsa as she slowly looked up at her husband, who wore concern upon his pale face as he gazed down at her while sat to her left. The sounds of activity around her began to sharpen as well, of murmured conversations and discussions that were bleeding into one even without her being away with the fairies.

"Huh?" she said lamely.

"I asked if you were okay," Jack repeated, and the crease between his eyebrows deepened, "you sure you wanna do this?"

Elsa stiffened, and a wave of sternness swept over her face. "Of course I do, Jack." she asserted firmly. He cocked his head slightly while the semi-circles in his eyes rotated left and right, and Elsa had the suspicion that he was looking for the slightest tick, the smallest sign of hesitation - which he wouldn't miss with those infernally clear ocular implants - so he'd have an excuse to keep her from joining him. Breathing deeply and steadily, she focused every muscle, every thought she had on maintaining the stern expression; she _was_ scared. In the days since the clinic crisis, the search for Jack had only barely kept the latent shock at bay and there were times she felt like collapsing into a trembling heap in the shower. Gunshots, bullets and hate had arrived unannounced into her place of work - and sometimes, her sanctity - and there she was, about to run headlong into a hostile situation even _worse_ than the clinic crisis. It was the kind of fear that kept the adrenaline at a high, and there were a few moments where she wondered what the hell she was thinking when she stated her intent to accompany Jack.

Then again, it was one of those things that just felt right. Jack sighed in resignation, and nodded while he looked away. He didn't like it one bit, that much was obvious. "I told you back in the motel, Jack - I would be there for you. No exceptions."

Jack rolled his eyes and gave her a look. "You know you can be really stubborn sometimes."

Elsa smiled with pride. "Indeed!" she said as she tapped his nose with a ' _boop'_. "So, how do we do this?"

"I cloak." he said simply.

Now it was Elsa's turn to give him a look, replete with slightly-cocked eyebrow and a slightly-tilted head. Folded arms to garnish. "Okay, so I'm supposed to use my good looks and sharp tongue, then?" She noticed his faint smirk and coy eyebrow, and sighed. "I said sharp tongue, Jack. Not what _you_ have in mind."

Jack chuckled. "My cloak can cover us both. You've just got to be practically on top of me. Like, piggyback?"

Elsa narrowed her lips and gave him another look, arching her eyebrow so far past the realm of unimpressed it was almost deadpan. "I'm kidding!" he said, ducking his head, "The cloak bends light around me, so all I need to do is make sure you're real close. Worked with my trench coat."

"And if it doesn't work?"

Jack shrugged. "Then I run very, very fast."

Aster jogged over to them, his face taut with anticipation. "It's time, folks. EMTs are on their way, but the traffic's being a bitch thanks to Eliza Cassan and her ladyboner for _let's-alarm-the-population."_ he said.

Elsa's hand tightened around the stun gun, but she pulled up the most reassuring smile she could, given the circumstances. "I have medical training, I can assess the hostages when they are free."

Blinking, Aster's brow raised, and he cast an impressed look at Jack. "She's full of surprises, ain't she? Helluva catch you've got there, mate."

Jack wore a warm smile, and with crinkled eyes he gave Elsa a loving gaze as he said fondly, "You have no idea."

The initial feeling of prickly irritation at Aster talking about her like she wasn't there was quickly swamped under a tide of shy embarrassment, her cheeks burning whilst simultaneously experiencing a severe flutter of the heart. She looked away and tried to hide the bashful smile; she was never one for public displays of affection - barring situations of marital reunions with a cyborg.

"So, here's the deal. You two have got about fifteen minutes in there before I send in the cavalry - I'm already neck deep in trouble for letting a civvie go in there." Aster said as they began to walk toward the centre of the police line, directly opposite the front warehouse door at the end of a wide asphalt road. "If I don't hear from you by then, we go in shooting. Brass says the Neuropozyne is more important than the hostages, though ideally we want both."

Jack nodded his understanding as he came to a stop with Elsa just to his side, the soft whirring of his leg servos ceasing aside from the occasional foot adjustment. In her mind, Elsa remarked to herself that with every move audible, it must put a kibosh on Jack's pranking capabilities. "I understand," she said.

"Fine," Aster said soberly. He exhaled deeply. "VTOLs are on their way for the hostages. Good luck." he added, clapping both of them on their shoulders and then retreating to the lines.

Jack turned to her, his eyes searching. "You ready? Once you go in there, no going back."

"I was told the same thing by my father on our wedding day, Jack," Elsa said, with a voice full of more heart than she thought. She turned and fixed him with a longing gaze. "I was more terrified at that point than I am now. I still walked through those doors, and I'm glad I did."

Jack's gaze softened. "I love you."

Elsa smiled. "I love you too. Now, are we going or what?"

Her husband smirked. With a squeal, Elsa felt herself be picked up bridal-style, with nary a grunt of effort nor a tremble of his arms from the man in question. She shouldn't have been surprised, but still. "Yes ma'am."

What followed was one of the strangest sights Elsa had ever seen. The Wrath Field system activated, and a transparent hole appeared in his chest, surrounded by blue light and clear enough for her to see the ground through it. The hole spread across his body, until only his head and arms were visible to her...and then _her_ body disappeared too. It was one of the most peculiar things, watching her own body disappear into thin air whilst acutely conscious that it was still there. She _felt_ like she had been lifted into the air by two incredibly strong metal arms, but she couldn't _see_ it. Releasing a hand from around his neck, she waved it in front of her face. At least she _thought_ she did - there was no visual confirmation of a blankly waving limb, a bewildered-looking blonde woman attached to it, or the man she was being supported by.

It was giving her a headache just trying to reconcile the paradoxical sights.

Inertia carried her further into his chest, a tell-tale sign that he had started running towards the warehouse. The hand previously testing the concept of invisibility shot back around the back of his neck for support, and very _nearly_ did she let out a squeak of surprise. She could do nothing save for screwing her eyes shut to dissuade the sensation of her stomach trying to vacate the premises, though.

Jack's rapid and soft footfalls continued for a while, with Elsa jostled slightly with each stride. "We're here," Jack said just above a whisper.

Elsa opened her eyes - yep, the warehouse was a hell of a lot closer than it used to be. Jack held onto her for a few moments longer, murmuring that he wanted to check the second floor windows. "Not picking up any heat signatures...wait," he frowned - in his voice, at least. All Elsa could see was a watercolour sky of darker blues and purples as sunset approached, roughly where his head should have been.

"Okay," he said. Elsa was carefully lowered to her feet and gently pulled to the huge sliding double doors, one of which oddly ajar, and it was as they scurried to press themselves against the wall that she noticed she was visible once more - bringing an odd sense of disappointment in among the relief. "There's one lookout in the southeast window, but he hasn't got line of sight."

That disembodied voice was starting to get really creepy. "There's a stairwell just to the inside of the door, be right back." he said quietly, his fading footfalls and slight scrape of the corrugated metal door the only indication of his movement.

Feeling exposed and isolated, Elsa crouched, flicked open the stun gun and held it close while she attempted to control her breathing. She cast a glance back to the police lines, and managed to spot Aster bent over a cruiser hood with a pair of binoculars looking right back at her. She resisted the irrational desire to nervously wave.

Footsteps approached from inside the warehouse, causing Elsa's gun-hand to automatically tense - thankfully, a humanoid shimmering appeared just outside of the door and crouched just in front of her. "Well, that's a warehouse full of _nope._ Okay, I've got good news and I've got bad news. Which one do you want first?"

Elsa frowned slightly. "Which one do you think?"

Jack chuckled, and tilted his head as if to say ' _fair enough'._ "Okay. Good news is that the lookout is down - unconscious, if you're non-lethal, then I am too - and our way in is clear." he paused to twist around and peer inside the door, as though to check for physical manifestations of ' _spoke too soon'._

"And the bad news?"

Jack cringed slightly. "They have a Boxguard."

Elsa's eyes went wide, rendering the drop of her jaw superfluous. "Th-they have a…" she said incredulously. It was one thing for Purity First to have acquired a bomb, but quite another for them to get hold of military level robots. Those things were designed for crowd suppression, shock tactics and occasionally full-on assaults. Fully deployed and unfurled, they resembled giant, slow-moving gorillas...except for the twin miniguns on its 'shoulders'. "How do you know?"

"There's a window in the room the lookout was in, perfect view of the inside." Jack said. "There's another observation room inside the main warehouse - that's probably where they're keeping the hostages. There's no real place we can hide, though - all of the Neuropozyne crates have been moved to somewhere else in the warehouse."

"Can we cloak?" Elsa asked anxiously.

"Sure," Jack nodded, "but the more strain I put on the system, the quicker I lose juice. It's already at…" he paused, and looked off to the side, "forty percent. We'd have to be quick."

Elsa looked down in thought, pursing her lips, unaware of how her hands were starting to tremble. Purity First terrorists _and_ a Boxguard robot, and all she had was a stun gun. Jack's eyes flicked down to her hands, and she looked up with a start when she felt the cool metal gently cover her them. "You can go back, you know." he said calmly.

There was a moment where she considered his suggestion, but that moment was overwhelmed by solidarity with her husband. She already went back on one promise, and she didn't intend to make it a running theme. "No," she said resolutely, "I'm coming. You can't rescue the hostages without incapacitating the warehouse guards first, and if you do, you risk alerting the hostage guards. You might be an augmented security specialist, my love, but you're still only one person. Besides…"

She fastened the stun gun shut and slipped it into the pocket of her hooded sweater, ignoring the resultant disapproving huff. "The concept of a princess waiting in her castle while her handsome prince goes off to fight the dragon is a little archaic, don't you think?"

Jack narrowed his eyes, and gave her unimpressed as he pointed out, "I don't think whoever created that fairytale had hostage situations, guns, Boxguard robots and bombs in mind."

"Times change," Elsa said, smirking as she rose to her feet, "Speaking of time, shall we go in or would you like to continue letting it slip through our fingers?"

Jack sighed, massaging the bridge of his nose. "You know you're a pain in the ass sometimes."

"Just one of the many reasons you love me," Elsa giggled in spite of the situation, "and I will make it up to you later."

Shaking his head, Jack turned back to the doorway whilst ranting under his breath, motioning for her to follow.

 **.**

 **\- - | ~ o O o ~ | - -**

 **.**

It was actually a lot simpler than she had anticipated to infiltrate the main warehouse, though the presence of Jack's cloak did cheat somewhat. He was correct in that the vast majority of the Neuropozyne crates had been relocated somewhere else, but there were other crates in a variety of sizes and shapes that had been laid out in a haphazard, untidy fashion all over the concrete ground of the cavernous building. Most had been placed facing the inner door in an effort to provide some form of cover should SWAT burst in, while others played the role of seats, tables for those who alleviated their boredom with playing cards, and occasionally improvised beds.

Not to mention that the lighting was absolutely _terrible_ , with no more than six big lights on the ceiling to illuminate the entire floor, and practically leaving the catwalks on either side of the warehouse separated by a retracted bridge in darkness.

Aster's estimation of twenty trespassers was about right, give or take an assault rifle wielder here and there. The biggest thing that unnerved, practically filled her with deep anxiety as they approached the stairwell was the presence of a cube that did not look like the others, roughly the height of a human being but covered in camouflage paint, left in the dead centre of the warehouse and given a wide berth by the terrorists. Harmless in its inert form, only a keystroke was necessary to turn it from an overgrown Rubik's cube to a lumbering machine of death.

Which was mostly why Elsa, carried once again bridal style, lost herself in the memories of the last time Jack carried her in such a way - over the threshold of their home, and nearly tripping on her train - and it was encouraging to note that even amongst the racing adrenaline and the fear coursing through her body thanks to a racing heartbeat, there was a strong centre of love and companionship to ground her.

Jack carefully climbed the rickety metal stairs with surprising stealth, even with a fully grown human being in his arms - another augmentation courtesy of Westergard in his leg prostheses, she darkly thought. The tiny motors plus the liquid shock absorbers in his feet, combined with the cloak made him nothing less than a ghost, and for a moment Elsa pitied the terrorists for what was to come.

They reached the top of stairs with no alarmed yells to signify their position as given away, and once they reached the solid panels fixed to the safety rail either side of the catwalk leading to the observation room, Elsa was carefully lowered to the floor. Crouching, Jack decloaked right beside her while she kept herself low, and he stared unwaveringly at the closed door. "They're in there, alright. Eight hostages, two hostiles. Both with AKs. One either side of the room. You were right - I wouldn't have been able to knock one out without alerting the other."

Elsa briefly wondered how he was able to ascertain that much information, but then she inwardly slapped herself when she remembered - thermal vision. "So, what do we do?"

Jack's head rose just enough for him to peer over the edge of the safety rail, and then quickly ducked back down. "They're not looking this way...so...well...knock."

Elsa's eyebrows shot into her bangs. Her lips thinned, and she gave him one hell of a look. "You want me to knock on their door."

Jack's eyes went up as though he was thinking. Nodding casually, he said, "Yeah, pretty much."

Rolling her eyes, she gave him exasperated. "And precisely what is it I'm supposed to say when they open the door?"

Jack shrugged. "I don't know. Improvise. Don't worry, I have a plan."

Elsa blinked at him, completely bemused by his relative nonchalance. Of course, how could it not be so simple. Just walk up to a door leading to a room where two armed terrorists were hanging out, and _knock. 'Hi, there. Pizza delivery...what, no tip?'_

Shaking her head with incredulity, Elsa carefully rose to her feet at the same time as she armed the stun gun in her pocket. She rose her clenched fist and, hesitating, glanced back to her husband…

...who had disappeared into thin air. Fantastic.

"Why aren't you knocking, don't you know how to knock?" Nope, still there. She briefly debated using the gun on him first.

Her heart thundering in her chest, intensifying the anxiety in her stomach, she rapped three times on the door, three quiet, hollow wood knocks. As one of the voices inside indicated their annoyance and that they were coming, she quickly glanced down through the corner of her eyes at the warehouse floor, and allowed herself a small sigh of relief. No-one noticed.

The door swung open, revealing a man with a pointed face. Not hawk-like but...if Elsa had to describe it, closer to an eel. Toting an assault rifle in his hands, he regarded her expectantly and irritably with heterochromatic eyes, and his skin was slick with sweat. Briefly, Elsa wondered if he was melting. Behind him were the eight hostages, kneeling down with their arms restrained behind their backs, looking at her with fear and bewilderment.

"Uh...hi...I was looking for the bathroom, and I kinda got lost," she said awkwardly, cringing as best she could as she noticed a shimmer slip by both her _and_ the terrorist. "You think you could point me in the right direction?"

Eel-Guy's eyes narrowed slightly, before widening to their limit. Gasping, he took a step back and levelled his rifle at her. "You're not Purity First. Get in here!"

Elsa's heart skipped a beat, and her hands rose into the air. The other terrorist asked curiously, "What is it?"

Eel-Guy called over his shoulder at his friend, who also seemed to be his twin even down to the heterochromatic eyes...though the colours were switched. "Just someone the other guys missed on their sweep."

Glancing over Eel-Guy's shoulder, Elsa noticed how the twin opened his mouth to say something. She also noticed how Jack's shimmering field was wiped away to paint him into the world, stood just behind the twin. He tapped on the terrorist's shoulder, and then applied a vicious punch that practically sent the poor man into a spiral when he turned.

"What the…?"

Predictably Eel-Guy turned around to see what caused the wet cracking sound. Taking advantage, with a sharp draw of breath, Elsa darted her right hand into her hooded pocket and drew the stun gun, pointed it at his chest and pulled the trigger bar. There was a snapping sound as the dart was fired, and the once-still terrorist's entire body snapped rigid and began to convulse.

It was then that horror ripped through her spine - twitching fingers plus AK-47 equals goodbye stealth. Uttering a strangled yelp, she shot forward. One hand lashed out to grasp the wooden lower handguard while the other clawed at Eel-Guy's trigger finger. She clenched her teeth as she tried to pry his finger away - even though she knew she was at no risk of being electrocuted herself, the body can apply extraordinary strength in the right circumstances. Twenty thousand volts worth of circumstances.

Jack rushed over just as Eel-Guy began to keel back, pulling a decidedly freaked out Elsa with him, and threw his arms behind the terrorist to slow his descent. Elsa shot her husband a half-terrified, half-infuriated look, a silent gesture to say ' _was him pulling a gun on me part of your plan?!'_

Jack merely cringed and shrugged meekly.

Eel-Guy's eyes rolled into the back of his head as ceased his convulsions on the way down. Carefully prying the rifle from his grasp after Jack gently laid him on the floor, Elsa rested her fingers against his wrist while she positioned her ear over his head.

"He's breathing, and I can feel a pulse. He's out." she said matter-of-factly.

"I could have told you that without even touching him." Jack said, almost petulantly. When Elsa looked up, he was even pouting a little.

She snorted as she rose. "It's a force of habit - not to mention I don't exactly trust your judgement right now. Having a gun pointed at me is not pleasant."

Jack instantly went silent, though his jaw dropped slightly and his tongue pushed against his cheek. Folding his arms, he gave her one hell of an unimpressed stare. "What?" she asked.

Her husband merely lifted his eyebrows. "You. Not trusting my judgement. It's hilarious, coming from someone who was hellbent on walking into a hostage situation."

Elsa huffed and shook her head. "This is different."

One of the hostages piped up, a thin man with a bulbous nose, ruddy skin and wispy brunette hair. "Hey, any chance of untying us, or do we have to watch more of this soap opera? I'm only asking, 'cause I want popcorn. And my hands untied." he said.

Unimpressed by his facetiousness, purely because Jack could be flippant enough, she held up a hand. "Oh, how is it different?" Jack asked challengingly.

"You didn't need to ask me, I came with you of my own volition."

"Yeah, after I asked you…" he paused to count on his titanium fingers rather theatrically, "at least three times to reconsider!"

Elsa huffed and rolled her eyes. "I was coming with you no matter what, Jack."

"Which is exactly the problem!" Jack threw his hands up in frustration. "I love your independence, don't get me wrong, but I don't think Beyoncé had gun-toting bigots, augments, bombs and SWAT in mind when she wrote _Independent Woman_."

Another hostage chirped up, a short woman with bewildered eyes and sleek black hair in a flyaway bun. "Shouldn't we be getting out of here? What are you guys even doing?"

Elsa narrowed her eyes. Addressing the hostage, she spoke from the corner of her mouth, "Catching up on four months of missed marital arguments," before returning her attention to Jack, "Are you saying you don't like independent women?"

Groaning, Jack covered his face with his palm. This was usually the stage where the initial point of the argument was lost, and they would start nitpicking each other's words. "No," he said, "what I'm saying is that I would never forgive myself if anything happened to you!"

"Well you don't need to worry, because I can take care of myself! And now we've rescued the hostages, I'm going to stick to the plan!"

" _...we haven't exactly been rescued yet…"_ said the wispy-haired man in a whisper, pointing out the obvious.

"Fine!" Jack snapped.

"Fine!"

The two of them stood in silence, glaring at each other, waiting for the other to back down first. Jack's hard eyes still zoomed in and out, and his lips were set in a thin line. Elsa's chest rose and fell in deep breaths. Frustrated as she was with him, Jack had a point, but she would be damned if she let him go alone after all she did to find him and bring him back to her.

Besides, it wasn't the first, or even the _second_ time she had a gun pointed at her, so she didn't really know _why_ she was arguing in the first place...but, as always, Jack was the first to cave.

"God, I love you." he snap-sighed.

"I love you too." she said, resisting the borderline unstoppable urge to smile widely.

Jack swept past her to the door. "We're talking about this later." he muttered.

"In what manner?" Elsa smirked as she turned around, casting him a lidded gaze, "The wine and calm conversation way, or the _other_ way?" she asked in a seductive tone.

Jack froze while stepping over the threshold of the door, hunched slightly in his grumpiness. When he turned around to look at her over his shoulder, there was a twinkle in his eye that told her all she needed to know - the _other_ way - before he continued on and silently closed the door behind him.

Elsa giggled to herself, and immediately began to search Eel-Guy for a knife just as the wispy-haired hostage asked, "I have no idea why I'm asking this...but what _is_ the other way?"

Her giggles turned into outright dirty chuckles. Finding a holstered butterfly knife in the back of Eel-Guy's belt, Elsa drew it and immediately set to work on the man's zip tie bonds. "Angry sex," she said so straightforwardly she surprised herself, "My favourite kind."

The wispy-haired man's face went taut with what could only be described - by Jack, no less - as ' _nope'._ "I did not need to know that."

"Then don't ask, next time." Elsa said pointedly just as the zip tie snapped thanks to the blade, freeing the man.

There was a flash of fear, however, that caused her hands to freeze and caused her to stare off into space while her reproductive system shrank behind three walls of impenetrable _hell-no._

Angry sex with Jackson was one thing, and usually left them sore and bruised but utterly satisfied and fulfilled...

...but Jackson didn't exactly sport augmented arms and legs.

"...eep." she squeaked under her breath.

 **.**

 **\- - | ~ o O o ~ | - -**

 **.**

To see Jack at work was actually quite impressive, even if it was technically the second time.

Having freed the hostages from their bonds, and anxious to get away from the awkward silence that had arisen ever since she explained what _the other kind_ was, Elsa had sternly reminded them to stay low and behind her before she opened the door, threatening to tase them if they didn't listen.

She didn't know where the threat of electrical violence came from, but after everything that had happened up to that point, she reckoned it was stress, anxiety and an abundance of confidence. That, and quite frankly she just wanted to get the whole ordeal over with so she could start a new life with Jack in Detroit. Naturally the hostages indicated their obedience, especially when the gunshots started.

It was when the last one filed out of the door, crouched low as required, that she took a chance and peered over the opaque safety rail panel, and saw her husband go about his task with astounding grace, almost like a dance of teleportation while the terrorists started firing at where he was three seconds beforehand . Ostensibly conscious of his cloaking system's power levels, he would veil himself until he reached the unfortunate target, decloak, knock them out, and then cloak himself once more. The first terrorist was dispatched by a simple punch to the jaw, after which Jack disappeared and then reappeared behind two stood next to each other, summarily knocking them out by literally banging their heads together. Bullets went every which way while the cacophonous sound of muzzle blasts drowned out the panicked yells of " _He's over there!" "Where'd he go!" "I lost him!" "Danny!" "Watch out, he's behind you!"_

It wasn't long before the number of rifles wasting bullets was reduced to about five, but that was when the Purity First members finally got wise. They encircled themselves like wagons, guns pointed outward in a crooked pentagon, ready to unleash hell on the slightest disturbance. Even from up high on the catwalk, Elsa could easily spot their heads whipping to and fro as they watched for Jack.

"Crap…" she breathed. Jack hadn't attacked yet, so it was obvious he was thinking the same thing, and was most likely carefully circling them.

What she did next...was risky, irresponsible, and something that the Elsa of six months ago would have been horrified at. She jumped to her feet, waved her hands in the air and yelled out, "Hey! Up here!"

Five heads snapped up, and she didn't wait for them to aim their rifles before ducking back down and avoiding the aghast expressions belonging to the hostages. "She's crazy…" one of them murmured.

Almost immediately, grunts, yelps of pain and the sounds of fists applied to bodies could easily be heard even from the catwalk, sounds that were vastly preferable to staccato gunshots and metallic ricochets that she was expecting yet praying not to hear.

And then, nothing but silence punctuated by the sound of nine people breathing as quietly as they possibly could. Elsa's eyes darted from person to person, each one wondering the same question...is it safe? Well, they wouldn't know for sure unless they looked.

There was nothing else for it, she decided. Slowly, she poked her head over the safety rail and peered down at the warehouse floor - and allowed herself to breath a sigh of relief.

Stood in the middle of five unconscious bodies sprawled around him, Jack's head was craned up towards her, his arms spread wide as he regarded her with an incredulous expression she could easily pick out as " _what the hell were you thinking?"_

Frowning, Elsa gestured towards the five terrorists around him - " _I was distracting them!"_ \- which Jack retorted with a frustrated hand towards her - " _Are you insane?"._ Elsa then rested her hands on her cocked hips and tossed him a challenging glare. Jack spread his arms wide and revolved on his feet, a silent gesture to say " _I had it handled!"_ to which Elsa responded with a sarcastic tilt of her head and a deadpan expression. Shaking his head, Jack motioned for her to lead the hostages down.

"Come on," Elsa said quietly, and made her way along the catwalk and down the rickety steps, occasionally casting wary glances at the camouflage-painted cube that was still sat inertly on the ground. She wondered briefly how it was that Jack was able to ambush, attack and incapacitate nearly twenty people in such quick succession, even after witnessing it in the clinic, without anyone activating the Boxguard.

But, she was never one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Dodging the bodies strewn all over the floor, Jack strode up to her shortly after she stepped off the stairs, continuing the theme of frustrated bemusement. "I thought Anna was the _act-before-thinking_ sister?" he said, eyebrows raised in mild disbelief.

"She is - but people often forget that I can be impulsive too." Elsa pointed out a little haughtily, as they began walking to the huge inner door.

Jack tilted his head as if to concede a point. "True - you did buy a brand new fence on a whim."

"Which you _still_ haven't painted." Elsa said snarkily.

Jack's jaw dropped open in mock-offense, and one titanium hand shot up to protectively cover his heart. "I've not really had a chance over the past four months, you know, what with dying and becoming a mindless robo-assassin!"

Elsa rolled her eyes, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to hide her grin. "Excuses, Jack."

Jack burst into laughter. Elsa felt her hand be grasped by those cold hands, whirling her around until she was staring deep into those artificial yet stunningly entrancing blue eyes, attached to a loving-yet-slightly-smug expression. "When did you get so overconfident?" he asked quietly, while the hostages filed past them.

"Around the time I decided to get into Hans' office and hack into his personal computer," she whispered, resting her hands on his chest while his looped themselves around the base of her spine, "I'm glad I have you back."

"We're still talking about this later," he said, narrowing his eyes. Elsa giggled seductively, and traced a finger down his cheek.

"I look forward to it."

Her eyes danced down to his lips, still cutting that annoying but addictive smile, and found herself leaning up for another kiss, which she would have enjoyed, had there not been a metallic clanking from behind them.

"Run," Jack said in a low hiss, putting himself in between her and the unfurling Boxguard. Not needing to be told twice, Elsa launched into a sprint toward the inner door, her once quiet footsteps echoing loudly around the once-still room, her breaths rapid and inducing a sharp pain in her lungs from how hard she was running.

Scrambling to slow herself, she whirled around the inner door and headed for the main entrance...but then a shape in the corner of her eye caught her attention. Her head shot over her shoulder, where she noticed one of the younger hostages, a man in his mid twenties with long blonde hair in a ponytail was peering around the inner door.

"What the hell are you doing?" she hissed through gritted teeth, glaring at the back of his head.

He cast her quick glance over his shoulder before returning his gaze to the main warehouse, where the Boxguard had almost completed deployment. She could see Jack stood still, silhouetted by the lights...and could pick out the shape of a person huddled behind an overturned forklift truck in the far right of the warehouse. Probably one of the terrorists woke up.

"You kidding me?" he said in an admiring whisper-shout, "Super-cyborg versus anti-personnel Boxguard robot. This is _way_ better than Batman versus Superman!"

The man promptly yelped when Elsa applied a reprimanding and rather irked slap to the back of his head, and massaged it while he stared aghast at her. "What the hell was _that_ for?"

Elsa gave him an unimpressed raise of a single eyebrow, and pointed to the unfolding scene. "That _super-cyborg,"_ she said in a hard tone, "happens to be my husband, so I would encourage you to be a little more respectful."

 _CIVILIAN. AUGMENTED. UNARMED. STATE YOUR INTENT._

Whatever further reprimands Elsa had in store for the voyeur of violence went flying out of the window when the Boxguard, now fully unfurled, made its way with earth-trembling ' _steps'_ to stand before Jack, dwarfing him with its size and pointing its two shoulder mounted miniguns at him while its mechanical, artificial voice rang out.

"Cloak, damn you." Elsa muttered to herself. "Why won't you cloak…"

"Maybe it's out of energy," the young man said. Elsa, her previous confidence dwindling upon hearing the man's words and realising he was quite possibly right, felt a rush of fear throughout her body. Jack was exposed, and in a tense stand-off against something that could tear him apart.

 _STATE YOUR INTENT._

Jack's response was simple - one foot kicked up an AK-47 into his waiting hand.

 _ALERT. WEAPON DETECTED. ACTIVATING LETHAL SUPPRESSION DIRECTIVE._

Her heart froze in her chest. Her hand shooting up to her mouth, she heard the gatling guns begin to spin up...but Jack had already launched into a sprint to the right. Moving extraordinarily fast, he raced to the catwalk on the wall opposite to the observation room. The muzzle flashes of bullets being fired at a thousand rounds per minute followed him, with tiny holes of concrete exploding barely six inches behind his feet as he moved. She watched him launch up the steps at a rate of four in one stride, before sharply darting left along the catwalk, all the while narrowly outrunning the steady stream of metallic death aimed at him. Scared, but unable to look away, her eyes followed him as he took another sharp left along the protruding part of the retracted bridge and leapt off the edge.

It was almost like time slowed down. As he drew his right arm back, Elsa's eyes were attracted to the glint of a blade as it extended from his forearm while the gatling guns tracked upwards, and using the momentum of his sprint combined with the force of gravity, Jack drove the blade deep into roughly between the ' _shoulders'_ of the Boxguard. The robot shuddered and jerked as the guns ceased, with Jack holding on using the blade to steady himself from being thrown off.

In its throes of death, the robot emitted a loud groaning noise just before its forelegs crumpled to the ground, rendered ' _dead'_ by the strategic application of the blade. Almost as though it was nothing at all, Jack yanked out the blade and stepped down from the empty shell.

"Ma'am," the young man said, awestruck, "your husband is a _badass."_

Elsa, filled with the adrenaline of watching Jack nearly be torn to pieces by twin gatling guns only to effectively bring down Goliath with a blade, let out a breath she forgot she had been holding and nodded lamely in agreement as she saw him gesture angrily to the laptop-wielding terrorist, and then point to the doors.

Needless to say, the man's obedience was immediate and he quickly scurried his way past Elsa, who watched him literally bump into a line of SWAT officers who promptly forced him to the ground with extreme prejudice.

Now, there was only the small matter of the bomb.

 **.**

 **\- - | ~ o O o ~ | - -**

 **.**

Three black VTOL helijets with light blue stripes along their fuselage roared over her head while they were directed to safe landing positions in front of and either side of the warehouse, which Elsa found to be rather inconvenient as it meant the hostages had to shout their answers to her assessment questions. She still had to strain her ears.

Largely they were unharmed, aside from the shock and a few sore points where the zip ties had been fixed, so it seemed to be a successful operation with negligible loss of life aside from possible friendly fire and a sluggish Boxguard's gatling guns.

What worried Elsa, as she knelt to check the wispy man's pupil response was that Jack had been radio silent ever since she followed the blonde-haired hostage out of the warehouse. Casting a glance over her shoulder, she had seen him approach the closed doors behind the Boxguard on the opposite end of the building, and instantly rebuked herself for not asking for a radio earpiece so she could stay in touch. It would have been far more helpful, and not resulted in her being distracted and shining a torch into the man's left eye for too long.

"You trying to blind him, mate?"

Elsa blinked, and started as though waking from a trance. A couple of quick glances over her shoulder and up at Aster stood beside her, and the world finally came back along with more than a hint of self-conscious embarrassment in the form of flushed cheeks.

"Oh!" she said awkwardly, "sorry. You'll be fine."

The man rose from the crate he was sat on and, following Aster's silent pointed direction, made his way to the waiting EMTs for yet another round of examinations, muttering, "I could have told you that…"

"Haughty prick…" Aster muttered under his breath while he folded his arms. "Anyway, I just wanted to say good work in there. I had my doubts, but you two made a good team."

Rising to her feet, Elsa looked away modestly and smiled as she said, "Thank you. Were there...any fatalities?"

Aster nodded as a grim expression swept across his face. "Yeah. Couple of people." Noticing Elsa's widened eyes, he hastily said, "Don't worry, it looks like bullets got 'em. Jack wasn't responsible."

Elsa breathed a small sigh of relief as she handed the flashlight back to him. "I'm glad to hear it. Has he said anything, at all?"

Aster shook his head, pocketing it. "Not yet, we're still waiting…"

One of his subordinates near the operations table gestured for them to come over with one hand, jiggling a headset with the other. "Speak of the devil," Aster chuckled.

With the kevlar vest now redundant and uncomfortable, Elsa unstrapped it from her chest while she followed him to the small marquee, eyes darting between the communications set, the man holding the headset and Aster, her hands instantly wringing in anticipation once the vest was passed to a nearby cop. His hands moved up to the radio perched on his shoulder, and pulled it to his mouth to say, "Officer Bunnymund here, you mind telling the helijet pilots to power down? Can't hear shit over here."

Moments later, the three aircraft that had been idling around the warehouse ceased their deafening humming, the sound dwindling as the seconds went by from an active jet to something approaching a vacuum cleaner. "Put him on the loudspeaker," Aster commanded, gesturing to the communications set. The radio operator indicated his assent and tapped on a shimmering orange square situated on the bottom left of the small glass screen.

" _Hello? Is this thing on? Testing...testing…one, two…"_

Elsa giggled to herself, and even Aster managed an awkward chuckle. "Yeah, mate, it's working. What's the score?"

" _Ah! Hi. Long time listener, firsttime caller…"_

"Jack…" Elsa said, groaning. There was something odd about his voice, though. Usually her husband would be overly facetious if he was incredibly nervous about something.

" _Oh, hey honey! Okay, well, I have trivial news, good news, bad news and worse news. Which do you want first?"_

"Just get to the point, mate." Aster snapped.

" _Easy, tiger. Trivial news - there were a few more guys but they're all out for the count. Good news, I found the bomb."_ Jack's voice resonated from the speakers. Elsa and Aster, along with quite a few other people breathed audible sighs of relief.

" _Bad news is that I can't disarm it."_

And then the relief was washed away. Elsa covered her mouth in fear - all the fighting, all the adrenaline, watching her husband take down a Boxguard for essentially nothing but a bomb that was destined to destroy the Neuropozyne. There would be cases of _Darrow Deficiency Syndrome_ everywhere. Augmented people would experience migraines, and lose control of their augments. They would experience seizures. Some would even _die._ Tension and anxiety filled the marquee like a thick cloud, with glances exchanged every which way, and some even nervously looking at their augmented limbs.

"There's...nothing you can do?" Elsa asked softly.

" _Nope. This thing has primary, secondary_ and _tertiary detonators. I clip one, the other automatically activates and we go bye-bye. These Purity First guys are sneaky, 'cause they rigged it with a proximity sensor. It started counting down as soon as I walked in and...we have about thirty minutes. This thing's going off, and there's nothing we can do to stop it."_

"Can we move it?" Aster asked.

" _One sec,"_ Jack paused for a moment, before coming back. " _No mercury switch that I can see, so yeah. It's not going to make a difference, though."_

"Why not...or is that the worse news?" Aster asked quietly, all good cheer and confidence diminished from his voice.

" _Well, riddle me this. When is a bomb not a bomb?"_

Aster sighed. "Jack-"

" _When it's a nuke."_

The colour drained from Elsa's face, and she would have thrown up if it wasn't for her stomach hitting the floor. It was much the same reaction from everyone else, though Aster staggered back and flopped down onto a nearby stool, his head slumping. Whatever optimism existed, whatever euphoria that was left from a successful operation disappeared in that moment.

If only to be replaced by a book's worth of spoken curses.

"Oh my God…" Elsa breathed.

"What's the yield?" Aster asked tonelessly, staring at the corner of the ops table.

Jack paused once more, ostensibly to check. " _Can't say for sure, but easily enough to wipe Arendelle off the map."_

"Shit…" Aster breathed.

 _How could he be so matter of fact about it?_ Elsa thought, mystified. He had just discovered that there was a nuclear device situated within the city limits with enough destructive power to render the city a distant memory, and there he was talking over the radio like it was just another Tuesday.

Aster sighed resignedly. "Best call the commissioner and start the evacuation then…"

Feeling decidedly faint and lightheaded, Elsa glanced between the myriad pairs of eyes staring at either Aster or the comms set, each expression roughly the same. Resigned fear. SWAT officers, used to diving into hostile situations and facing death at every turn, reduced to terrified wrecks. The kind of fear that arises when you know exactly when and how you're going to die, and you start thinking of those you love.

" _Don't bother. I've got a better idea - whichever of your VTOLs is closest, tell the pilot to fire it up and get out. I'm going to fly the bomb out to a safe distance."_

Elsa shrieked before she even knew it. " _WHAT?!"_

" _No time to argue, honey. I'm on my way out with the bomb, might want to clear the way. Oh, and no naked lights or cell phones, please. We don't want any premature e-nuke-ulation. See you all in a second. Jack out."_

The comms line went dead, not that Elsa even noticed. It couldn't be real, it just couldn't. Her husband was _not,_ after all they had been through, about to fly a nuclear device out of the city where it would explode. She was barely aware of how her body couldn't decide between remaining in a state of shock or breaking down in tears, or how her hand trembled over her mouth.

Jack was going to die - for real, this time.

"No…" she breathed, unwilling to face the truth. "No...no no no…." she continued, whimpering in denial.

She looked pleadingly at Aster, who returned her gaze with an expression of sad resignation, of apology. "I'm sorry, ma'am." he said, before turning to one of his subordinates. "Fire up the _Icarus,_ and tell Guy to leave it running."

Started by his words, Elsa rushed to him and grasped his arm, staring with anguished fear into his emerald eyes when he looked back at her. "No, please! Why does _he_ have to fly it out! Can't he...don't you have some kind of autopilot?!"

Aster slowly shook his head. "We do, but there still has to be someone on board for the onboard computer to register. Kind of a…" he paused, if only to bitterly scoff, " _safety feature._ Designed to prevent people flying _into_ a city to do the opposite of what Jack is going to do. I'm sorry. I wish there was another way."

 **.**

 **\- - | ~ o O o ~ | - -**

 **.**

It didn't take long for Jack to appear. Walking through the warehouse's outer doors, he carried in his arms a human-sized torpedo of dull steel, sealed with bolts and rivets, with one glass window in the centre. The agent of their destruction, no bigger than he was, though judging by the strained wincing on his face and the labored gait, it was exceptionally heavy.

Strangely, though, the presence of the sunset sky - a canvas painted with gold, scarlet and orange - meant that the sun's glow reflected off his arms _and_ the bomb carried by them, giving him an almost ethereal quality. In any other situation, Elsa would have remarked on how beautiful it looked.

Upon seeing him, Elsa rushed towards him with all the speed she could muster. "Jack, please," she said breathlessly, "there has to be another way!"

"I wish there was, honey, but this thing's going off and there's nothing we can do to stop it." Jack said calmly. Too calmly. Elsa blinked, bewildered as to why he seemed to be walking to his death with such peace. His eyes fixed upon the open embarkation hatch of the _Icarus,_ Jack marched unstoppably on.

Panicked, Elsa protested. "But...why does it have to be _you?_ Why can't it be the pilot? Why can't-"

"Because none of them signed up for this, Elsa." Jack said firmly as they closed to just in front of the hatch, "and I can't ask them to."

"But-"

"Elsa, please. I don't have much time with you, and I don't want to waste it by arguing with you." Jack said, grunting with effort as he climbed up the ramp and rested the device down onto the row of passenger seats, before proceeding to secure it with the personnel safety straps. "Twenty-five minutes…" he murmured to himself.

Elsa wasn't going to let this drop. She _would not, would not, would not._ "What about Sarif Industries? What about our plans? What about-"

She felt herself be yanked into a hug with enough surprise to completely eradicate what protests she had left to volley at him, his hands embracing her tightly and lovingly while he buried his face into her neck. "I know, honey. You can go, though. Sarif will look after you."

"What about _us?"_ she whimpered into his shoulder, tears slipping down her cheeks onto the fabric of his shirt. She knew there was a countdown, a quantifiable descending order of numbers that heralded a massive explosion, but she didn't care. He was about to leave her life for the second time, and for good. In that moment, he was her world. Not the police around her, not the city, not- "He should look after _us!"_

Pulling back, she cupped his face and stared with shimmering wet eyes into the constantly rotating ocular implants of his. "I lost you once, and I went through hell for four months! I can't lose you again!" she cried.

Jack smiled, but it was a sad and apologetic curl. "I know, Elsa. But...at least this time we'll be able to say goodbye, right?"

"But I don't _want_ to say goodbye!" she practically hissed through gritted teeth. "I need you! Is that what you want me to say? I need you! I can't live without you...not again…"

Jack moved his hand up to draw an errant strand of hair behind her ear. "Yes you can, Elsa. You're strong. Stronger than I ever was, and ever will be."

Elsa opened her mouth to protest some more, to make him understand how much it was _killing_ her to know he was right, and being so damn selfless and yet so damn selfish, and that she loved him so _damn_ much…but Aster brought them both back to cruel reality.

"Mate, the other VTOLs are gonna escort you to the city limits. Sort of giving you a send-off." he said, his tone heavy with respect.

Nodding, Jack thanked him before turning back to Elsa, who felt such pain in her heart it was like it was being ripped from her chest and carved to pieces before her eyes. "I guess this is goodbye, my love."

Elsa nearly whimpered a ' _no…'_ but was stopped by the sudden press of Jack's lips upon hers, a cold touch that would have taken her breath away had she not already forgotten how to breathe. She tried not to kiss him back, so he would truly know how much he was killing her...but her desire and need betrayed her pride and within a second she had closed her eyes and was melting into the kiss, tasting her tears on her tongue. He pulled back, if only to smile lovingly at her when she opened her eyes, practically tore off the vest, tossed it away and swiftly moved up the ramp into the _Icarus._

"We'll keep the skies clear, Genos." Aster said, chuckling. Over his shoulder, Jack retorted.

"Who the hell is Genos?"

Elsa watched Jack as he made his way to the cockpit, reckoning that the only reason the embarkation ramp was not being raised was the controls were probably there too. Which gave her an impulsive idea, something that she never thought she would ever do, yet felt more right than anything she had ever done.

"Mr Bunnymund, my sister's name is Anna Bjorgman." she said. Taking a deep breath, she raised her chin and continued, "Tell my sister...tell her what happened here. Tell her why...I did what I did."

And without further thought, as the ramp began to raise with a piercing metal groan…

...she jumped aboard the helijet.

 **.**

 **\- - | ~ o O o ~ | - -**

 **.**

The _Icarus_ had been in the air for about ten minutes and, true to Aster's word, the other two VTOLs had been flying parallel to the _Icarus'_ westerly course before peeling away. Judging by how fast the city had passed them moments ago, with its orange lights set against dark buildings below her as she peered out of the closest porthole to the rearmost dull green passenger seat where she was hiding, Elsa reckoned they must be travelling at the very limits of the VTOL's maximum speed.

As she watched the world go by while she braided her platinum blonde hair, she began to understand why Jack seemed so calm and peaceful, bordering on blasé about his imminent death. It was a strange serenity. She knew exactly when and where she would die - in about fifteen minutes according to the countdown, and at least fifty miles off Arendelle City's coast in a loudly humming helijet. That part was written and set in stone. Her life would end, along with his. No more did she have the worry about when or where, like most humans do that life was finite, but you don't know _how_ finite. Elsa did...and she no longer needed to think about it.

Her death would have meaning.

Nestled in the corner of the dimly lit compartment, her eyes drifted from the window to the back of Jack's head, wearing a comms headpiece, framed by a stunning sea of gold and amber. He would be angry, she knew it. He would be shocked, saddened, and angry. He wouldn't understand...but she would make him.

Carefully, she rose to her feet - the flight had been smooth so far, but if she stumbled it would be a hell of a giveaway - and held onto the ceiling-mounted rigging as she quietly made her way to the cockpit. Jack was impossibly relaxed, she could easily tell, with both hands on the control column as he stared out at the glorious sunset.

"Hell of a view…" he murmured to himself. Elsa could only agree, smiling fondly. "Oh, mustn't forget autopilot. Navicomputer," he said, addressing the onboard systems as he flicked a button, "time reach minimum safe distance of sixty miles?"

" _Thirteen minutes and twenty two seconds."_ said the _Icarus_ in a rather sly feminine voice. For a moment, Elsa felt a glimmer of jealousy.

"With two minutes to spare…" Jack said, almost proudly. " _Icarus_ to Aster, you reading me?"

" _I'm here, mate."_ said Aster, his voice slightly distorted by the radio speakers.

Jack paused for a moment, hesitating. Tilting her head, Elsa listened as he made the very first sounds of several words, as though working out what to say and then deciding against it at the very last second.

"Is Elsa with you?" he asked, with a voice that was curious yet wary. Elsa felt her heart skip a beat.

" _Nah mate...she...she left."_

Jack exhaled through his nose, though when he spoke again his voice was altogether different. Like he was relieved. "She probably went on to Detroit. That's okay. She...she needs time. If you see her again...tell her I love her."

"Or you could tell me right now."

Jack practically jumped out of his chair. Gasping, he whirled around and stared in complete and utter shock, his blue eyes wide and his mouth open. "E-Elsa!" he said, stammering as he pulled off the headset. "What the...what the hell are you doing here?"

"Making a choice, Jack." she answered simply.

He opened and closed his mouth several times like a bewildered goldfish. It would have been adorable, had his expression not changed to stern anger. "You can't be here. I'm setting her down and you're getting out." he muttered as he turned back to the control column.

"No, you're not." she said stubbornly.

"Is that a fact?" he said in a clear attempt to sound indifferent.

"Yes. There's only two minutes spare - it would take more than that to land this thing and take off again. Especially as we passed over the coast a minute ago."

Jack's mouth opened as though to retort - but Elsa's logic was undeniable. Even if he did circle back to drop her off at the beach, first he would have to _make_ her disembark, and then hope that the thermal radiation of the blast didn't cause her too many third-degree burns when the nuke eventually went off.

"...but you'll die…"

Moving forward, Elsa bent over and embraced her husband from behind. "I know."

"...and what about Anna? You can't-"

"I had some time to think back there, Jack." Elsa said, squeezing him slightly. "Hans knows I stole the data, and he already has people outside Anna's house. It wouldn't be long before he kidnaps her, or Henry, to try and get me to hand over the flash drive. If I do this...she will be safe. Hans will have no reason to harm her."

"...but I was doing this to save you…" Jack weakly protested.

Elsa chuckled lightly - always her prince charming. "Jack, you know you don't need to save me. I make my own choices...and right now, that choice is to be with you. Just like I promised. I lost you once, and I will be damned before I lose you again."

She straightened up. The pilot's chair, situated in the dead centre of the cockpit was remarkably spacious, so taking advantage of such space she turned the chair towards her and lowered herself to sit on his lap. He avoided her eyes, focusing instead on a point somewhere to her left. "Look at me," she said softly.

He shook his frowning head, prompting a single tear to slip from his left eye and trace down his cheek. Leaning down, Elsa intercepted the teardrop with a delicate kiss, tasting his sadness and resignation on her tongue. "Jack, my love, look at me."

Slowly, his eyes moved inch by inch up her body to meet her gaze, expectant and yet scared. "I am _exactly_ where I want to be." she said comfortingly.

Jack's eyes softened. His shoulders slumped with a long breath through his nose, while his entire face relaxed. "Now," Elsa sighed. Resting her left hand over his right shoulder, she nuzzled her forehead against his neck and snuggled in. "There was something you were going to tell me?"

His chest immediately fell with a snort. "That you're a pain in the ass?" he deadpanned.

Elsa hummed smugly. "True, but not what I meant."

Jack then chuckled, and wiggled his body so she was pressed closer to him. "That I love you, and as much as I hate myself for saying it, I'm glad you're with me?"

Smiling, Elsa closed her eyes and stroked the other side of his neck, feeling the skin and the metal of his neck-plates under her fingertips. "There we go." she whispered.

The skin on her left cheek began to tingle with an ephemeral pleasure, the kiss of the sun's dying rays shining through the cockpit's windshield. It was like a warm, soft blanket over her exposed hands, face and neck, and her eyes began to crave the golden canvas once more. Slowly, she opened them, and lifted her head slightly to gaze out of the window.

Peace was what she felt as she stared out at the golden orb, nearly touching the horizon. With no land to break up the view, the field of golds, ambers, reds and purples swirled around like a hand painting both above and below the horizon line, like an endless sunset. It took her breath away, and filled her with such admiration. But then...something dawned on her.

Smiling knowingly, she murmured, "Icarus…"

Jack craned his head and peered down at her, not missing the chance to kiss her forehead. "What about him?"

"I was just thinking of how, to escape the island, he and his father flew on wings of wax and feathers, but in his excitement Icarus flew too close to the sun…"

"...and his wings melted, so he fell into the sea. I remember the legend." Jack finished.

"It just dawned on me - here we are, flying toward the sunset on a helijet named the _Icarus."_ Elsa chuckled. "How symbolic."

Jack uttered a chuckle of his own. Elsa then felt his entire body stiffen, which was usually Jack-gesture for _I-have-an-idea._ "Hey, do you remember when we danced at our wedding?"

Elsa smiled widely, and leaned up to kiss his jaw. "I remember it clearly. I remember how you kept accidentally stepping on my feet!" she said.

"Well," Jack offered, "what would you say to us doing it all over again...without the toes thing?"

Elsa pushed herself up to rest upon his chest and gaze down upon him, beaming with joy. "I would say…" she paused, if only to clamber off his lap and move to stand by his side while offering her hand, "...may I have this dance?"

Grinning, Jack rose from the pilot's chair and, after ensuring the _Icarus'_ flight would remain steady with a quick check of the dashboard instruments, took her hand and led her to the dimly lit passenger compartment where the bomb sat restrained against the seats. Walking to the centre, she heard the soft mechanical whir over the humming of the engines as Jack placed his hands on her waist, while she looped her arms up around his neck. Gazing up into his eyes, which had oddly ceased their constant contractions and expansions, they revolved in a gracefully slow circle while Jack hummed the song they danced to at their wedding, a fourteen year old classic entitled _All of Me._

 **03:22**

"This is nice…" she murmured. "Ten seconds in, and my toes remain step-free."

Jack chuckled, and pecked her on the forehead. "Who would have thought that I could dance better as an aug?"

"You're still my perfect Jack." she said, softly. "Will we...will we feel anything?"

She didn't know why she asked. Anyone with a cereal box's worth of knowledge would know what happened to the human body when stood by an exploding nuclear device, but she still asked nonetheless. Thankfully, Jack humoured rather than mocked her. "Nah. We won't feel a thing."

Closing her eyes, she rested her forehead against his lips as they slowly swayed to his humming, and felt herself almost fade away from the world, as though nothing existed but her and her husband, dancing a gentle circle, lost in the moment. Enjoying the silence and the love.

 **02:30**

" _Minimum distance reached."_

"How much time do we have left?" she asked. The moment the words escaped her lips she regretted them, because they brought her back down to earth with a thump. Reminded her of the unstoppable onset of time.

"Does it really matter?" Jack asked in a low, soft hum.

Letting loose a long sigh, Elsa's smile fell. She hated herself for it - especially as it slowly corrupted the buoyant love and peace with growing anxiety and worry. "I suppose not," she murmured, but as they began to turn so she was within view of the bomb, she opened her eyes and stabbed herself in the heart by failing to resist glancing at the crimson descending digits illuminated through the glass viewing panel...and as she froze, her heart sank.

 **01:58**

Her throat became altogether painful thanks to a constricting lump, and fear mixed with regret and guilt came dangerously close to turning her peace into contrition. Slipping her hands down to his upper arms, she uttered a quiet whimper and buried her face in his shoulder - trying so hard not to cry.

"Hey, hey," Jack said soothingly, "what's wrong?

Elsa shook her head. The pain was her burden to bear; she looked at Medusa, she opened Pandora's Box. She would not allow their deaths to be weighed with sadness.

"Uh-uh. I've been married to you for too long, and this is not the time to be all coy. Spit it out, honey." Persistent man, was Jack. So much so, that Elsa felt her resistance and silence crumble as the words fought their hardest to come out.

 **01:32**

"It's not fair."

Jack's frown was practically audible. He pulled back, and not a second later Elsa felt the cold touch of titanium-alloy hands on her cheeks as she fixed her gaze on his collarbone. "What do you mean?"

"I…" she began, but found herself troubled by what she was to say.

 **01:01**

Forcing the words out, she said, "I just got you back...I was...it's not fair that the time we had together amounts to less than twenty-four hours. I could have had a _week,_ but I wasted it by being scared and hiding from my fears. I wasted my time with you...and we only have…it's not fair…"

Tears must have been seeping from her eyes, not that she noticed, as Jack's thumbs were working overtime in clearing them from her cheeks. "Look at me," he asked, just above a whisper. Unwilling, but completely unable to deny him, she slowly moved her gaze to his...happy...blue eyes. Why was he smiling? Surely he was conscious of the same thing.

"I'm so sorry, Jack. I'm sorry I wasted what little time we had left…"

 **00:45**

"Elsa, my love...it doesn't matter, 'cause where we're going?" he said, and tilted his head slightly. "We'll have all the time we want."

An emotional sigh swept through Elsa's mouth, and as if by instinct and reflex she wrapped her arms around his neck and roughly pulled him down for a kiss, feeling the guilt, the anger, the regret and the fear be washed away by his simple words. Mouths moving in unison. Light moans exchanged. Her lips tingled at his touch, and she closed her eyes to savour the sensation.

One last kiss.

Breathless, she slowly pulled away, feeling her heart burst with love for her husband, and wanting to gaze upon his face for...well...the rest of her life. "That was...wow…" he stammered awkwardly, pale cheeks flushed with heat.

 **00:25**

Elsa smiled. "Wasn't it just...anyway...the song's not over yet…" she said with great affection.

Jack grinned. Losing themselves in each other's eyes, the two danced their slow, loving, tender dance as time inexorably counted down.

 **00:06**

"I love you, Jack."

"I love you too, Elsa. Forever and always."

 **00:02**

"Forever and always."

 **00:01**

And then…

 **00:00**

...there was nothing but all-encompassing light.

 **.**

 **\- - | ~ o O o ~ | - -**

 **.**

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **There we have it for the main story.**

 **Originally it was going to be five chapters long, but as I was writing it there arose a need for a sixth - and even then, I didn't put down all I wanted to.**

 **So, there will be an epilogue which will hopefully lead into the events of Deus Ex: Human Revolution. I'll probably start writing it in the next few days, and it will be vastly shorter than this chapter.**

 **If anyone is interested, I will be linking this story as well as the music that inspired it on my Tumblr (just google my pseud and Tumblr, should come up with "Furiyan's sorry excuse for..."). In addition, feel free to google the 80-X Boxguard for an idea of what it looked like.**

 **I would like to take this time to thank: my wife, for being truly awesome, listening to my ideas and being my proof-listener, encouraging me and reining me in; zulka, for being my idea-soundboard, who lets me know what works and doesn't work, who also proof-reads and points out my mistakes (you are seriously awesome), and oninoko for always giving me evil satisfaction when I tease you with plots. In addition, thanks HornedGoddess - I'm really happy I made it fit in the Deus Ex world. You might like the epilogue, too, in that case.**

 **Finally, thank you all for reading. I am truly grateful and humbled by those that read, and the kind words I get. Makes it all worthwhile.**

 **See you in the epilogue!**


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